Sigh No More
by amanichan
Summary: Yggdrassil has been coexisting peacefully with its neighbors for a millennium; however a plague known as the Chitauri Locust emerges. Their ally scouts from Nova HQ has spotted the parasites heading their way. Within a century time the threat will be imminent. However Midgard demands an alliance as a form of good will for their resources. Thus an arranged marriage pact was signed.
1. Prologue

"Hey, old man. I've got something for ya."

The clank of a glass bottle on marble echoes briefly within the hollow of the Stark Mausoleum. The dust it displaces pillows out before resettling.

After a moment, and a bit of shuffling, Tony pulls out two clear shot glasses from a hidden pocket on his uniform. He uncorks the bottle and fills the glasses to the brim.

"This one's from your own collection, so bottoms up."

Tony picks up a glass, clinks it against the other and downs the shot of whiskey in one. The liquid leaves a trail of fire and he abruptly coughs.

"Shit, it burns. How can you even like this stuff? Yeah, I know, I'm not even legal yet. But you know, I'm old enough to shoot aliens in the head, so what's it matter?"

Unsure of what else to say, Tony heaves another sigh and settles against the tomb, promptly waving off more dust. After tossing the empty glass back and forth a few times, he slowly but surely finds his voice.

"Don't think I've forgiven you for shipping me off to the Academy. It was a dick move, and you know it."

Another sigh and he plops the glass down next to him.

"I still can't believe you got Captain Uptight-pants as my guardian. After so many years he still looks younger than some of our new recruits, and his personality is as about as interesting as the ice cube SHIELD chisel him out of; only an ice cube would've thawed by now."

Tony knew he was wasting time. He was given ten minutes. Ten minutes to resolve his shit. Ten minutes to get his stuff in order. Ten minutes before he ships out. Ten minutes to say goodbye.

Ten minutes is not enough. He hadn't visit since the funeral service years ago, but still. No one ever told him it would be this hard to talk to dead people.

"It's really happening dad: the swarm invasion; the Alliance; me getting hitched to an alien prince. It's fucking surreal."

He taps his head back against the wall and welcomes the sharp bloom of pain over the numbness.

"I read that damn Proclamation, you know. How the hell did you manage to pull off that I'm a 'Prince of Midgard' anyway? And when were you ever going to tell me that I got a dowry? A fucking dowry! It's the 21st century for fuck sake! Not the medieval ages!"

"Yeah, I know, watch my mouth. Sorry mom."

"I can't do this, dad."

"Marry someone I don't even know, let alone love? I know it's my duty but, what if the fancy Prince wants an heir and I can't provide?"

"I'm broken. Damaged goods. That bomb didn't just take you guys away from me and give me a shiny new jewelry. My heat hasn't shown up at all, even though Omegas as young as twelve are common enough. Sure, those know it all therapists say it's different for some Omegas, but that's just a fancy way of saying 'you're messed up and here's hoping it'll happen, kid'. I read somewhere that a rare few are born sterile; maybe I'm one of those."

"Look, can't you fix it somehow? Is there, like, hidden clauses in that damn contract you sold me off on? Old Nicky said you held them off for a decade already with that. Between the two of you, you must have some old trick up your sleeves? I know for a fact that old spymaster's secrets have secrets."

"Hey, Tony."

"Guh!"

Spooked, his right gauntlet palm, raised and ready, flash bluish-white in warning. Upon recognizing the interloper, he powered down immediately.

"I could have killed you Uncle Steve."

The other man rolled his eyes at the familiarity.

"It's Captain. We're in uniform, and no, you won't. It's time."

"Shit, already? One more minute, please. Please Uncle Steve?"

Steve disappear behind the doors for a brief moment before he poke his head back in.

"Two minutes."

The door closes and Tony is alone once more. Somewhat frustrated by the lack of time and his need for closure, Tony runs both hands through his hair. Releasing another sigh in defeat, he gets back up on his feet and straightens his uniform.

"Alright. So this is it. Last words: Dad, you're a dick. Mom, I love you and I wish you could be at my political shotgun wedding. Jarvis, buddy, old friend, I miss you terribly. Wish me luck; I'm off to get hitched to an alien."

With a last minute look at the empty crypt, he makes a slow trek towards the door and stops. A quick turnabout, a swift return graveside, and Tony swipes the remaining shot. The whiskey burns in his gut.

Now he's ready.


	2. Of Distraction and Decision

Tony recognizes that look. Not even waiting for the Quinjet to take off, America's own golden boy began his lecture. It was a song and dance Tony Stark knew well.

"I thought the bottle of whiskey was for Howard?"

Tony pause while buckling in then proceeds to take his time, avoiding eye contact at all cost.

"It was."

"Then why do I smell alcohol on your breath even from here?"

His eyebrows knit together and he discretely breathes onto his palm and sniff. Huh. So he was caught red handed, perhaps it was time to fess up. A method Tony found to work wonders in preventing further chastisement, although, it might keep his mind from wandering.

So he grumbles instead, "I didn't want it to go to waste. I did leave the bottle and I'm sure the groundskeeper would thank me later."

Steve wasn't having any of it unlike Pepper. If Tony were looking, he would not have withstood the disappointment.

"You know how I feel about underage drinking and especially while on assignment. Tony, you can't be impaired today of all days. How much did you drink?"

He looks down at the floor, shuffle his feet, and admit in a low whisper, "Just two shots."

"Tony!"

That tone always made him feel like a ten year old. And he defended himself like one.

"I thought it would help. I'm sorry."

The low rumbling of the Quinjet cruising at altitude fill the silence. Tony took it as permission that the subject was drop and is thankful. His eyes wander to the large window of the front cockpit, nothing but clear skies. Almost certainly, thoughts of the future creep in and made him feel queasy. Perhaps Steve was right about something.

"You okay?"

No, he feels like hurling up his breakfast.

"Peachy."

He vaguely hears Steve rattling on about something before the man sat down next to him. Steve gives him the patent I know you aren't fine look. Tony ignores it and flashes his own patent smirk he reserves for the public. Steve wasn't buying it but lets it go. He does tilt his head slightly aside like when he's listening to the coms in his right ear and leaves a moment later.

Tony tries some breathing exercises when something flies towards him and he caught it on reflex. Looking down, he opens his palm and read from the yellow tube: AntiPoleez. Huh, what do you know?

"Thanks."

"No problem, man. Had a wild night myself."

Tony sprays some in his mouth and made a face. He tests his breath once more. Nice. Wait, that voice sounds familiar. Glancing up, he did a double take. Of all the people—

"Birdbrain!"

He scrambles free from his seat and launches at his pack mate. Oh, how he'd miss this guy. Sufficiently tackled, said person laughs and hugs him back.

"Miss you too, Prince Stark."

Bristling from those words, Tony pulls away.

"Ugh, not funny, Clint."

"How about Iron Maiden?"

Not rising to the bait, Tony only shook his head.

"So, what are you doing here? I thought you were off chasing the elusive Black Widow?"

That shit eating grin was back on the other's face. It must have been a wild time indeed. Tony is never more thankful for the distraction, even though he was genuinely interested in Clint's exploits.

"I was."

"That's it? That's all you are giving me? It's been a year, man. Come on, details."

Clint's grin only widens.

"It's classified, remember? You're not supposed to know about that mission."

Making a face, Tony puffs up his chest.

"I call bullshit. There's no system I can't hack and you know it."

"That's not something to boast about, Tony. I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

That came from the cockpit. He should have seen that coming. "Yes, Uncle Steve."

"It's Captain."

Totally ignored of course, Tony press onward, "So details?"

Clint's response is only a raise brow before he comments, "If you already hacked in, you should know all about it, right? What's to tell?"

"Look, all it says was REDACTED and that was months ago. So what gives?"

Surprisingly enough, Tony thought he would ever see the day when Clint Barton blush like a fourteen year old fanboy meeting Ms. July.

"Would you believe…I got bonded?"

That didn't sound right.

"You? Mr. Co-ed bonded? The Clint Barton who shot the bra clasps off Agent Hill without getting caught, bonded? The same Clint Barton who bet me—"

Tony soon found his mouth covered and Clint very close murmuring desperately, "Now now, Tony. Nobody wants to hear about my past exploits now do we?"

"Whmm mm hmmm?"

"I don't know Clint, I certainly would like to hear more."

Oh. That was feminine, husky accent (nice), and definitely not came from Steve Rogers. Both Tony and Clint turn their startle eyes to figure standing next to the co-pilot seat. First thing Tony notice is her boobs, they look familiar. Huh. Next his eyes pan out and saw the hourglass figure in a black, skintight cat suit. Wow. Until his eyes zoom back in, focus on the boobs again then up before they pause at the red pouty lips, smoky eyes, and red curly hair. Hot damn. Wait. Those look familiar too. Now heavy with suspicion, Tony takes in the whole picture and sucks in a breath through his nose before he realize the hand still covering his mouth. In his rush, he slaps Clint's hand away and points an accusing finger at her.

"You're Natalie Rushman. The PA I didn't hire after JARVIS detected you tried to seduce me with an Alpha perfume."

Seeing her replying smirk though, Tony quickly did the square root of two and came to the right conclusion.

"Clint, say it isn't so? You didn't bond yourself to the Black Widow, did you? Did she trick you with the scent thing? I'm ashamed of you for falling for the oldest trick in the book. She poisons her mates and eats them you know."

Clint only shakes his head and laughs at him in return. Oh no, the guy was doom then. Tony will mourn for him.

"She was MY mark but I made the call after tracking her for half a year. She's Coulson approved. So quit it. Come say hi, Nat."

Even her walk was pure seduction. Tony, of course, conveniently forgets that he once fell for her too. Although, he can proudly say that hiring Virginia "Pepper" Potts out of that whole fiasco was the best idea he ever had for Stark Industries. He'll miss her. Or perhaps, as a Royal Betroth of the Prince, would he need a PA? He thinks, maybe she can bear the heir too?

Shaking off that wandering thought, His eyes refocus onto the outreach hand. Hesitant at first, he takes it decidedly.

"Mr. Stark. Please to see you again."

Her lilting voice is teasing while her body language at ease. Tony knew better though. He'd seen her take down Happy with her killer thighs.

"Ms. Rushman or should I call you Mrs. Hawkeye? Or Mrs. Barton soon-to-be-dinner?"

"Call me Natasha, if you can. I didn't earn my codename for that by the way."

"I know," replies Tony with his own grin. "So, what happened to change his mind?"

Both Clint and Natasha share a look and said, "Budapest."

And the Captain interrupts, as he's wont to, "ETA in 15 minutes."

Then as if on cue, the duo moves back to the cockpit as Steve steps out and motions Tony to take a seat. A bit annoy by the interruption, Tony quickly does as told and resume the conversation.

"So what happened in Hungary?"

He tries that is.

Clint only waves at him and throws back, "Later, bro."

"What? Oh, come on! It was getting good. You can't leave a pack mate hanging."

Tony tries looking around Steve for he knew there was a reason for all this and no way is he ready for whatever it is.

"Prince Anthony of Midgard, I'm here to debrief you prior to our arrival."

And there it is. Dread supersedes his earlier devil-may-care attitude. Tony slouches down on his seat and leans his head back on the headrest.

"Captain, what possibly can you tell me in the next 15 minutes that I haven't been taught for the past decade of my life? Seriously."

Steve's game face never changes. He merely waits a beat before answering.

"If you so choose, the contract your father, Howard Stark, had sign will be made void. In so doing, you will be free of your duty and relinquish all patent rights and trade secrets given by the alliance to your successor. Furthermore, your memories of the past decade in relations to all such knowledge will be subject to removal. Think carefully before we have your answer. You have five minutes."

Of course the bastard even synchronize his digital watch for the countdown. To say Tony was floored by that little announcement was certainly off the trajectory. This. He never imagined this. Wait, Steve looks worried, was he hyperventilating? Huh, so he is. It took some effort, but Tony felt his breathe evening out. Okay, he can do this.

"Shit! You mean to tell me all this time I have an out? Oh, sweet Tesla! All my life I've been told that this is my duty. Behave like this. Learn that. Prince should talk like this. Don't fuck around like that. Oh, this is too much."

He shot out of his seat once more despite Steve's frown. Well Steve can go— feeling the force of the steep decline, Tony reluctantly collapses back into his seat. Running both hands through his hair, Tony took a quick moment to calm down. He glances over at Steve's watch. Shit, three minutes.

"Okay, tell me this: when you say all memories, what do you mean?"

Steve merely nods and supplies, "Exactly that. All memories of the past decade wipe out."

"Like all the science? Iron Man? JARVIS? Pepper? Rhodey? You guys? The Nine Realms? The Alliance? SHIELD?"

"Way to prioritize asshole," grumbles Clint from the peanut gallery. Tony heard Natasha gave him a quick shush to shut him up.

"Yes, all of it. Including the people who had direct and indirect dealings with you in that capacity. It is critical not to jeopardize the war efforts and cause mass hysteria in the interim. Until the plan to introduce the world to our alien allies are activated, secrecy is necessary in this case."

It is a lot to take in. Tony can calculate the ramifications. If he says no, this would set Stark Industries back ten years. If he says no, he'll have Swiss cheese for memories. If he says no, he doesn't have to marry an Asgardian Prince.

"Tony, you got one minute."

His eyes widen as he looks at Steve, stricken by how little time he has left.

"Wait, wait! What do you mean my successor?"

"If you refuse Tony, then your backup will undergo the same deal."

"And if I say yes? What will happen to them and I guess their backup?"

"Their minds will be wiped clean."

"Ah geez, can you at least tell me who they are?"

"It's time. I need an answer Tony."

Oh fuck it.

"Yes! Holy Einstein, I said yes."

Tony slumps down in his seat in defeat. That was intense. Surprisingly he also felt relieved in a way. Huh, how about that? He shoots Steve a curious look and noticed the other smugly grinning back at him. The bastard.

"Agent Barton, kindly continue our course for Puente Antiguo, New Mexico."

"Yes, Sir."

Hold up.

"What do you mean continue? Weren't we heading to the Triskelion? I thought you said the ambassador will greet us there?"

Apparently Steve is too busy laughing at his expense since Black Widow answers for him.

"We would have if you said no, then the Kree Ambassador would introduce you to his Truncheon."

His suspicions confirm Tony punches Steve on the chest, not that it would have hurt the guy.

"You knew I would say yes didn't you? Why the show than?"

"Tony, actually that was all true even though it was evident that you needed a push. We, us, the whole planet needs you behind this. It's the least I can do for you. Ultimately, I want you to be happy with your decision."

It's hard to stay annoyed at a guy who says mushy things like that.

"So, now can you tell me who the sorry ass people getting their brain melt instead of me?"

Steve shrugs and looks over at the cockpit.

"Oh, you'll love this!" exclaims Clint, always with the side commentary now that he's free to talk. "Nat got the intel."

Ready to play along, Natasha chimes in, "Apparently, Justin Hammer, Victor Von Doom, Janet Van Dyne, and Harold Osborn."

Tony's jaw drops.

"You shittin' me!"

Clint is practically cackling now. "I shit you not. It's true."

He couldn't fathom the alternative. Really?

"First of all, Justin Hammer? Ew. He wouldn't know what do with all that science and that bumbling idiot does NOT get to represent Earth. No way. Secondly, Victor is a megalomaniac who'll probably do world domination let alone world peace. Besides, I thought he refuse to be categorized? As for Janet, actually she's not bad a choice. But, little Harry? The toddler? I didn't think Asgard like them that young. Ew."

Not wanting the discussion to devolve, Steve redirects the topic, "The World Security Council could wait for Osborn, but that is beside the point. You agreed so let's go over the real debriefing."

Tony didn't want more, but is resign to his role now so he resolves to keep half his attention on Steve and the other half on refining the designs on his Mark VII just because he can.

* * *

"We're here, Captain."

As the humming of the Quinjet dies down, all four rise from their seats. The wait is finally over.

"Let's go, Tony. Time to meet your future husband."

Okay, so he wasn't quite ready to hear that. Tony gives Steve the stink eye.

"Ugh! Can we not call him that? Sounds totally weird and not to mention lame."

On the other hand, Steve entirely misses the hint by a landslide over the next peninsula.

"It's a common term these days. Back in the 40's, you'll be lucky if they let you register as a domestic couple even though The Blood Type Pack Movement was gaining speed."

Tony couldn't control himself and rolls his eyes, despite knowing how Captain America hates it. Even though the hypocrite does it almost as much as he does. Admittedly, mostly when dealing with Tony, and Clint, and Peter Quill he supposes. Okay, maybe with only snarky a-holes then.

"Don't need the history lesson, gramps. All I'm saying is that the majority of us young'uns think marriage is overrated."

"You do know the Asgardian's mate for life? And they have a really long life, Tony."

That took a turn to the serious fast. It wasn't like Tony hasn't thought about it.

"….Yeah. How uneven is that? Our lifespan must be like ants to them. When I die, the Crown Prince can ally himself with a new Realm lickety-split. I bet they do these kinds of Alliance all the time. No wonder it is no big deal for them to cave in to our World Council's demands. In exchange they get to keep my dowry and our Treaty like forever."

Steve actually pauses from leaving the Quinjet and turns to eye Tony with a put out look. "….I never thought of it that way."

It is actually cute how Steve suddenly looks affronted on his behalf. Tony tries to make light of the topic.

"That's why you're my guardian and chaperone for so long, Uncle Steve. I'm the brain and you're the brawns of this operation."

"I do have a degree, you know."

"Yes, Art History I know. I on the other hand I have five honorary PhDs. I would claim a Nobel Prize too, but I was robbed last year. If SHIELD hadn't block my entry—"

"You have to exit the plane, Prince Stark."

Damn. Tony knew that tactic would only work for so long. This is really happening, happening.

"Yes, Captain America. I mean, Captain Rogers, sir. Do you really have to call me Prince? I rather be a symbol. Can I be a symbol?"

"You are. A symbol of prosperity in an Alliance for the betterment of humanity."

And the joke was lost by Steve Roger's man-out-of-time routine. Ba-dum-bum-ching, ladies-and-gentlemen.

"I hate it when you get patriotic on me."

"Shut up, Tony."

"Much better."

* * *

They both knew the moment is here. They were standing under the hot desert sun, twenty-five miles from the nearest town. This was where first contact occurred over ten years ago. In fact, although faint, the markings from the Bifrost have been preserved within SHIELDS protective enclosure. Even now, their scientists' head by a renowned astrophysicist, Dr. Erik Selvig and his young protégé is monitoring the upcoming event. Tony has read their research and also seen the footage from surveillance years ago. Personally, he avoids the location on principle.

Tony felt dumb standing in the circle by himself with only a carry-on size luggage. In the Quinjet, he'd thought Steve was going with him. Apparently he was wrong. The Asgardian's has dictated the events to the letter. The Betroth must ascend alone to Alfheim where the Crown Prince shall spend an uncertain amount of time to court him. Once, all parties have observe the traditions, words shall be sent to continue with the proceedings. So it wasn't like he had a choice.

"Tony!"

Cut from his musings, Tony looks and feels exasperated.

"What now? How long is this going to take?"

"You have to say the password, Tony."

Password? Oh, the Proclamation. He felt stupid, but hey, still a genius.

"Alright, this is it then. Steve, Clint, Widow, and weird peeping toms behind the curtains, I'll see ya when I see ya."

His eyes began to blur and he couldn't say it. That's right, real men (even Omegas) don't cry and they don't do hugs. He felt rather than saw both Steve and Clint draw near and hugs him for all he's worth. And according to Fortune 500, Tony Stark is worth more than Bill Gates thank you very much.

He wants the moment to last forever but it was all too brief. The other's left him be once more. There, Tony stood and raise his head to the clear blue sky.

"Heimdall, beam me up."


	3. First Impressions

The thoughts that pop up in Tony Stark's mind during the short five seconds ride across the cosmos go something like this: _'Alien abduction, baby!'_ follow by _'I want one of these!'_ and finally, _'Oh, shit! I'm actually going to another planet!'_

As soon as his footing felt grounded and all the whooshing dissipate, Tony feels blindsided by what he saw and mutters with reverence to himself, "Sweet Tesla, goodbye New Mexico, hello Rivendell."

He landed in the middle of a large stone balcony overlooking part of an alien terrain with a waterfall flowing down into a delta towards the ocean. The midday sun is very bright yet gentle as the breeze that touch his skin. Two moons, one gibbous, the other full, loom above the palatial castle before him. The intricate wood carvings of the lintel, frames the presence of his host and her entourage. To say the scene before him was majestic and beautiful would not have done the surrounding justice.

This is it. The meet and greet. Howard should be proud of him for once if Tony can pull this off.

His inner Tolkien wants to fanboy over the nearest elf and give their pointy ears a tug. They are thinner then he'd seen and taller too. All present were feminine, waifish and fair skin in coloring. They look delicate to the touch. But Tony has seen footage of their warriors in training. They are fast and deadly creatures with inhuman strength.

He feels out of place with his SHIELD issued blue uniform compared to their earth tone dress robes. Fortunately, his decade long training kicked in and Tony barely stumbles over his rehearse script. With his right arm, he places a close fist over his heart and bows at the waist in greeting. Upon straightening, his host, a genteel handsome woman with a crown of gold ringlets framing her face, returns his greeting with a smile. She was more tanned and seem heartier than the others. As she speaks, her attendants dip their knees to curtsy and bow their heads in respect.

"Welcome to the Halls of Gimlé, home to the Ljosalfar, Prince Anthony Stark of Midgard. I am Frigga, your host for the evening."

Tony likes her immediately. Believe it or not, he's done his homework prior to coming here. Frigga, the Queen of Asgard and sister to Frey the ruler of Alfheim has just downplay her role and made his stay less formal.

"I thank you. It is a pleasure to meet you, your majesty." Then just to be cheeky, he hesitates a moment before he points towards the sky. "However, is there a possibility to do that again?"

Frigga remain compose despite her visible effort to stifle a smile. With a twinkle in her eye, she replies instead, "If you ask prettily enough, I am sure my son, Thor, will indulge you readily."

So, she made him blush. Tony hadn't expect that. He look sideways for a moment to collect himself then deflect, "Yes, well, will King Frey and Prince Thor be joining us?"

The Queen flash him a knowing smirk before she motion one of her attendants to gather his luggage then stretch out a hand for Tony to join her. Taking his cue, Tony moves to stand beside her and allow her soft footsteps to guide him while the rest of her entourage follows discretely behind despite their clear display of excitement. He knew he is being stared and gawked at, but suppose that he is as much a novelty to them as this whole experience is for him. Luckily, Tony Stark is used to being in the spotlight.

They pass through the wooden arch and into an enclosed courtyard with high grey flagstone walls. Framing the wide pathway towards a smaller archway that leads to separate part of the castle is a multitude of foreign flora and fauna. Tony knew for a fact that his science bro, Bruce, would give his left nut just to be here and examine these samples of astrobiological lifeforms. Not that Bruce hadn't tried approaching some of their more extraterrestrial dignitaries with such curiosity. Tony make a note to himself to collect some clippings for his pack mate later.

"Amongst ourselves, I grant you, no formalities please. We are soon to be family."

Her playful tone from earlier remain. Tony finds no difficulty following her lead. Steve would be so proud of him.

"Will do, ma'am."

Frigga gives him a measure look before she relents and mischief makes way back to her lips. Judging from the laugh lines on her face, Tony finds he doesn't mind the perpetual teasing. He only hopes that the Crown Prince has inherited similar traits.

"Come now, Anthony. We have barely converse and yet I see your eyes dancing every which way since you arrive. You must be convulsing with curiosity. You are both a scholar and warrior, are you not? However, I believe you are more interested in your surroundings then making a contingency plan."

Chagrin by her keen observation, Tony shrugs and reach up to scratch the back of his head.

"I feel like a kid in a toy store, not knowing what to see or touch first."

"Ah, you are very much like my other son, Loki, only he would not have such restraint as you do. Tis only through centuries of indulgence that he is jaded enough to pretend so."

Easily, Frigga recounts the exploits of her children as they traverse the eastern halls until they reach a set of large dark grain wooden doors that reach over ten feet tall.

"This will be your quarters for the remainder of your stay. Our tradition dictates that I, as your host, attend you to bathe away the weariness from your travels. I would be much oblige, however, I suspect that will only discomfort you. Should I send Thor?"

She pauses for confirmation and see Tony's cheeks bloom with healthy color once more. He's never heard of THAT protocol before.

"I thought so, it would be most inappropriate is it not? Well then, a bath awaits as well as a change of garments. Would a servant in attendance be sufficient?"

It wasn't like she was flirting with him, only teasing. He'll have to nip the coloring in the bud first thing. That is if he can find the off switch. Tony suspects he'll have a hard time finding it from now on if her son was anything like her.

Tony bites his lip to hold back a snicker before he replies cordially, "Thank you."

"You are most welcome."

Frigga then signals the servant behind her and like a well choreograph dance, the tall blonde elf glides her way to Tony's left side and curtsy while another servant hands her Tony's luggage as she train her eyes to the floor.

"Tanna will attend to your needs. The sun sets early here on Alfheim. She will escort you to join us at the dining hall when you are ready. We will see you then."

With the Queen's departure, Tanna walks around Tony and push the doors open. She then gestures for him to enter as she waits at the threshold. She is all business unlike a few of her fellow servants who seem to be itching with curiosity over the human. He should be grateful he suppose.

Barely making five steps into the room, Tony stops to take it all in. Wow. The room, a paltry use of the word, is naturally well lit from the wide opened balcony that spans one wall of the room and overlooks the ocean. Framing the view, hangs diaphanous silk curtains that drop to the floor. At the middle, a few feet from the railings, sat a green embroidered chaise. Tony can definitely imagine himself lounging the day away and enjoy the view. It feels like home in a way since he had the Malibu mansion newly built just for that purpose.

The rest of the room was equally beautiful to admire. The bed, if he would even call it that, looks very much like a scoop out wooden burrow piled on with fur and cream silk beddings. Situated on the opposite wall is a large wooden trunk. Tanna has already placed his belongings next to it. Besides the trunk and closer to the balcony is a vanity with an oval shape mirror and a matching wooden chair. On the other side of the trunk, a few feet away is a large slab of shale, oddly shape but well-polished, place over an egg shape stone base with two wooden chairs beside it. A carafe of water and a crystal glass tumbler sat atop it.

Tony is still admiring the foreign décor when Tanna addresses him.

"Prince Anthony, your bath is waiting in the adjoining chamber. I will be preparing your clothes if you should need me."

Tony feels pressure to bathe until he remembers the large blaring fact that a few of the dignitaries from other realms seem to have a keen sense of smell amongst other enhancements. The annual summit with most of the representatives from the nine realms and their neighboring allies consist of war plans and negotiations over resources. Any cultural exchange was largely accidental and reluctantly explained except for protocols. Furthermore, facts regarding who's who in the realms and their history were freely given, along with the assertion that interspecies bonding were sanction and encourage after the war. Steve had surmised it would most likely be up to Tony to act as emissary and make his own observations. Tony though, interpreted his marriage as the first of many for Earth-Realm relations.

Regardless, he must smell horrible or something for them to keep insisting he bathed. And perhaps it's just a weird custom they have. When in Rome, Tony supposed.

With a courtesy nod, Tony adjoins to the other room and greatly appreciates that he can close a door behind him for some privacy. Not surprising, the en suite bathroom is very much like the ones from Earth. He supposes there isn't much variation any humanoid beings can do for the same basic functions. A stone toilet with no seat cover is situated at the corner of the room. There is also no toilet paper. Upon a closer look though, Tony sees a spout squirting constant water upwards. Huh, a bidet. A few feet away from the toilet, is a round granite basin protruding from the wall with running water also flowing constantly. Ignoring that for now, the hot bath prepared is in a sunken round river stone tub with a decent size bath towel folded beside it. The hot bath looks inviting and large enough to fit two people.

Quick as it came, the thought of a still faceless Thor joining him was kick back to the gutter. Tony began to disrobe.

* * *

Squeaky cleaned and soften from the unscented bath oils, Tony now realize he has a problem. Clad in only a bath towel large enough to cover from his waist to mid-thigh only, he is all too aware of his defect. After all, the arc reactor is a shiny beacon. If he walks out dress in his uniform, he would probably offend them with his stench again. But if he walks out in only a towel, Tanna would see his glowing chest jewelry. Would the servant girl be horrified? Would she tell the royal family? Would the Alliance be called off? These thoughts aren't new, but still it doesn't erase the fact that he's self-conscious about it. Only a handful of people have seen it so far, not while he's half naked though. It's not like SHIELD wasn't informed.

Alrighty then: fake it 'til you make it.

Tony casually opens the door and waltz back into the room with only a quick glance at the waiting servant. Her eyes are downcast. Thank goodness. He sees the native clothes already laid out on the bed and move towards it. The garments seem simple enough. A light red silk, long sleeve tunic with a mandarin square collar embroidered with gold trimmings. To be worn beneath it is snug tan leather pants with matching lace-up hunting boots.

So he wears the tunic first. Thankfully, the length hits pass his crotch and a few inches above his knees. Tony quickly drops the towel on the floor before he pulls the pants up his legs. With the lacings done up, the pants sits low at his waist and showcase the V of his Apollo's belt. He felt indecent wearing that all on its own if not for the tunic covering it. Sitting on the bed, Tony slips on the boots and takes his time lacing them too. Upon finishing, he stands and takes a few steps to move around in his new garments. Surprisingly, they felt good, formfitting without feeling stifling.

Tony does a quick turn around by the vanity before he faces Tanna. Instead of her gaze downcast, she looks at him up and down with an appreciative eye. Not the admiring lustful kind, but more of a tailor appreciating her work.

"Prince Anthony, we will have most of your new clothes be ready for you in the chest by tomorrow eve. If you would follow me, King Frey is expecting you at the dining hall."

Hearing that, his stomach rumbles in approval. It reminds Tony that he only ate breakfast and had two shot of whiskey when the day started. There was nothing but butterflies since. Hoping that the noise wasn't heard by the servant, Tony chances another glance and sees a fleeting smile before she reverts back to her business self. Huh, very much like Pepper then. Deciding not to comment, Tony merely nods at her to lead the way.

* * *

As far as first impressions go, Thor is freaking huge. Not the overly done Mr. Universe huge or the overdose steroid huge, but through years of honing huge; equally proportioned and not a silly caricature version of a muscled man. He'd thought Captain America is well built but Thor got Steve beat by a few inches everywhere. Tony felt like a dwarf in comparison. And believe him, he'd seen the footage; the description is apt.

The Crown Prince is tall too; he's 6'4" of blond Viking beefcake. He even towers over the already tall elves. Not really what his years of wondering had imagine. He knew about the Viking mythology tie-in to Earth, the whole ancient astronaut theory proven, although, most of the stories were utter nonsense according to one dignitary. But he never imagined this. This is something Tony would have to get over soon though. His Betroth isn't unattractive per se. Thor is a warrior first and foremost despite the Prince wearing what Tony suppose are civilian clothes. Strong, masculine features well carved through training and living life to the fullest. An Alpha male if he ever saw one. Tony knew many typical Omegas would have swoon at the sight. Frankly, he doesn't feel anything like that though. Maybe he is broken.

They are gathered by the raise dais where a large rectangular table cover in a smorgasbord of food fit for a renaissance fair had been lay out. Below the dais, several long rows of tables are lined with elves of all shapes, sizes and colors. Some of the oddest ones are smaller in stature and resembled cats while a few are blue-skinned. Tony assumes they must be different races of elves just like humans and tries not to gawk. Rather, he tries not to gawk back.

Conversations and general merriment had stopped as soon as he appeared.

Tony repeats the fist-over-the-heart bow to the Royal family and remembers the protocol mention by one of the dignitaries. He waits to be acknowledged.

Queen Frigga gives him a nod to come forward and Tony makes the trip with some trepidation. The closer he got, the more intimidating Thor seem. Did he establish that his Betroth is huge?

"Brother, Thor, I would like to present to you, Prince Anthony Stark of Midgard."

Tony nods his head in deference to both, takes a deep breath, and finally makes eye contact. Thor is nervously smiling back at him and he suddenly has the feeling that this marriage thing would work out. He could do this.


	4. Courting, Trial by Error

Tony's official debut to the court of Alfheim as Thor Odinson's Betroth certainly feels like being crown king and queen of the prom. Not that he ever went. Being at both the SHIELD Academy and taking classes at MIT since the age of fourteen tends to dampen party time especially when Uncle Steve took over his life. Not that he would ever complain about that, better Steve then Obadiah any day. Actually, Tony didn't want to think about that traitor.

The announcement by King Frey kicks off the feast with raucous approval from the crowd like it is Sunday night football. The few shout outs that Tony manage to hear altogether brought the colors back in his cheeks and that seem to encourage the crowd's merriment. Surprisingly as soon as King Frey gave the signal to sit down, the noise eventually dies down to conversation level. It is very much like eating in a large cafeteria full of strange people.

Despite the food before him smelling heavenly, Tony isn't too keen to sate his rumbling belly just yet. It isn't because he is afraid to eat extraterrestrial food and chance a bug endangering his gastro intestines. Assuming that is, there is no reason to poison him outright. No, he's always been adventurous to try something new as long as it's cooked thoroughly, case in point, the shawarma he had for breakfast before he came here.

What stalls him at first is that he didn't recognize what some of the meat and vegetables are. However, what really threw him off is that all of the people present are using just a dagger as both a knife and a fork along with their bare hands to eat with, even the royal family.

Tony has just assumed too many utensils and lengthy rules to conduct a meal. Like that one time he had to attend a charity dinner host by the Prince of Monaco following the Grand Prix race Stark Industries sponsored. Knowing him, Steve had forbidden Tony to race but it had been a nightmare all the same. What, with a villain by the name of Vanko with a grudge against Howard (of course) coming out of the woodwork and destroying cars and property left and right. Despite his suit being totaled at the end, he managed to stop the guy.

That night, during the sixth course of the very proper and stuffy dinner, Tony made his excuse to the men's room. Due to the media coverage that day, it had apparently made some people think that Iron Man was down for the count. So, some shmuck managed to corner Tony alone (in the john of all places) and tried to force a bond. The poor guy didn't stand a chance because Steve Rogers was like a mother hen and hound dog all in one. Apparently the Captain had flown all the way to Monaco from who knows where mission and came charging in to protect Tony's chastity all because he was worried. Not that Steve knew Tony needed the saving. He didn't. Tony isn't just any Omega who would succumb to a slight show of dominant behavior though. He could say the same of Steve Rogers, but that is a different story.

So, when in Rome. Right. Tentatively, he dug in and tastes each new entity like a scientific experiment for his palate. By all means, Tony isn't a dainty eater. If it is a good old American cheeseburger, he would dive in like a starve dog on a juicy bone. However, he's at a foreign planet in a room full of alien bipeds whose chowing down like this is their last meal. Tony hopes it isn't.

Call it paranoia or curiosity, but his eyes and ears are actively scanning the room and cataloging the gestures and snippets of conversation. Interestingly enough, he only caught a few words that sounded like English wherein earlier he was able to understand their dirty jokes perfectly. Jogging his eidetic memory, Tony remember coming across the term AllSpeak in some of the transcripts posted by the summit. What is it exactly? A universal translator? Hardware or software base? How does it work?

It isn't the only thing he is wondering about. The Bifrost is the biggest mystery to him hands down. Imagine—no, not imagine. Tony did traverse through an Einstein-Rosen bridge in five seconds. A controlled wormhole, not the quantum foam mechanics Wheeler had theorized. And the Asgardians apparently use it like whistling for a taxi by calling out one word. How does that even work? Would he be able to use it again or is it a one-time deal?

Just think of all the science he could unravel—

"Anthony? Does something trouble you?"

And he is suddenly brought back down to Alfheim. Oh, right. Public dinner with the soon-to-be in-laws and his future hus—uh, spouse.

"Oh, I'm perfectly fine. Good even. Yes?"

For some reason, his rapid response seems to have both Frigga and Thor in a stitch. Well, as polite as royalty would show it. King Frey merely shakes his head at the other two and flash Tony a fond smirk.

Frigga leans over toward her son and loudly stage whisper, "Did I not tell you, Thor?"

Whether intentional or not, Thor's response isn't so measured, "Yes, truly remarkable, mother. It shan't be difficult to bond with Anthony since he's so similar."

Great. Tony's the butt of an insider joke. Apparently they weren't going to elaborate since Thor sent him smug grin and drains his cup, then smashes the poor thing on the floor, hard enough to dent it. That crash didn't make Tony jump as much as the shout that came after.

"Another!"

What the hell!

Okay. So Thor has two settings: loud and louder.

The servant attending the Crown Prince quickly places another cup down before retrieving the dent one as if it is common practice. Perhaps it is. Tony scans the room just to confirm the weird custom and find none other is doing the same.

Okay. So Thor has barbaric tendencies.

Tony shot Frigga a glance and didn't sense any disapproval. On the contrary, she's totally ignoring it like everyone else.

Okay. So maybe it's a Thor's thing? When drunk?

Upon second thought, Tony decides to heed caution and follow a leaf from Steve Roger's Boy Scout rulebook. He signaled for a server and Tanna conveniently appears. He makes his request quietly for water instead. His servant, is she his servant now? She is pretty quick considering the cup isn't there one moment and a long blink after he guess, it is. Huh. He murmurs his thanks. As always, Tanna makes her curtsy and walks back into her corner somewhere.

Okay. So Tanna is his personal servant for everything now. He could get use to that. Kind of like a Jarvis or a Pepper.

"You need not worry, Anthony. Tis a vile Asgardian habit you will learn to ignore as my sister has."

Even though King Frey delivers the comment with affection, Tony didn't miss the sarcasm. And Frigga visibly ignores it while Thor does the same or is just totally oblivious. He files that little info away for later.

Okay. So it isn't just a Thor's thing but an Asgardian one. Tony did figure the Viking culture merits a part somewhere.

"How do you find Alfheim?"

This, Tony is comfortable to play along. Not necessarily his forte just yet but public conversation with a tinge of wit and charm he can handle. Political hotbeds, not so much.

"Beyond my imagination actually. Back on Midgard, even our most inspired artists can't capture what I've seen so far. It would be nice to have a tour of the place, King Frey."

Please with his remark, the King nods his assent. "And so you shall. You will find Alfheim to be a peaceful Realm. We pride ourselves to be scholars and nurturers of the world around us. Tanna shall be more than sufficient to be your guide."

Off to the side, Tony can see that even singled out his servant isn't fazed one bit. "I thank you for the honor, your high—"

Thor didn't allow Tanna to finish when he interject sharply, "With most of the sentries disperse throughout the outer rim, there has been reported rumors of marauders roaming freely about the eight realms. A mere servant girl cannot be enough to protect a Prince of Midgard, Uncle."

King Frey narrows his eyes, "She is an apprentice of Astrid the Wise, as was your brother briefly one time or other. If these so-called marauders accomplish the feat to slide through our shields undetected, Tanna is more than sufficient."

With nostrils flaring, Thor is relentless towards his call for safety. However, Tony has a strong feeling they were rehashing a stick at a nest full of hornets. It isn't about him, which sucks.

"She is not a Prince of Asgard trained as a warrior in the art of combat. Her protection is nothing compare to the superior might of—"  
"Thor."

Wow was that intense. Frigga certainly knows how to cut the atmosphere back down to simmering. The crowd in the dining hall even quieted down, took stock, and notice.

"Why not escort Anthony yourself? Thus, you may protect him, get to know each other, and Anthony may tour Alfheim at his leisure."

Tongue-tied perhaps with the sudden change, Thor's word came out slowly at first, "I…am not… well-traveled with Alfheim as Loki but I know just the place."

Apparently satisfied with Frigga's masterful resolution, the merriment resume as if nothing alarming took place. Even Frey went back to eating and conversing quietly with his sister. Thor, warm-up by now to the idea, sends Tony an invite that brook no argument, "We shall leave on the morrow after we break our fast."

Okay. So Thor is highhanded and has a superiority complex.

Oh fuck.

* * *

Safe in his nest (Tony still refuses to call it a bed) he tries to forget the last couple of hours. It had been a very long lunner or was it dunch? Thor going head to head with Frey was the highlight of the night apparently. What came after were the medieval entertainment of minstrels, dancers (none exotic unfortunately), and juggling acts. In other words, mediocre and leaving Tony wanting to call it a night early despite Frigga's attempts to create one-on-one time for the new couple. She even went as far as to suggest Thor escort Tony to his room.

Nowhere near ready for that kind of intimacy with the big guy, Tony decidedly pulls out all the stops to claim exhaustion and soon his excuse has its effect. Frey gives him permission to leave.

Grateful for the reprieve Tony hurries after Tanna and soon reaches his quarters. He tries dismissing her at the door despite her insistence to help him to bed, which is weird. Another custom, maybe? He relents of course because Tanna even looks like Pepper when stubborn. By the time Tony completes his bathroom ritual, she already has his sheets turn down and the curtains drawn. Before she finally leaves, she does insist on helping him dress tomorrow morning for his trip with Thor.

Now that he's alone, Tony slowly lowers his mental blockage and quietly cries with thoughts of his pack mates giving him little comfort. It was a long time before he succumbs to sleep.

* * *

Surprisingly, after a night of good crying, Tony is up and about with renewed excitement. He even did his P.T. to excise some of it. A good run would have done it, but his options are limited to his room and the hallways. After today though, he is certain that finding a scenic trail would be easy.

True to her words, Tanna arrives on his doorway at the crack of dawn. He can tell that she is please in spite of her frown at first then resume her always-present stoic expression.

"Good morrow, Prince Anthony."

"Good morning, sunshine."

Without any comment to that, she presents him his garments for the day. It looks more complicated than the outfit from yesterday. Although the low black leather pants are the same, it's now paired with black knee high riding boots, a gray swaying pirate-looking tunic worn under a fitted black leather vest with silver accents. Black leather arm braces and a wide belt around his waist complete the look. Tony gives himself a looksee at the vanity and stares. And stares some more.

"I look like a LARP attendee. All I'm missing is a long bow and a sword."

Confuse at first, Tanna then takes him seriously of course.

"If that is your wish, Prince Anthony. I can take you to the armory and have the Smithy loan you one until he completes your commission?"

"You mean there's a forge here? With a blacksmith? I can have weapons? Made just for me? Ooh, can I watch him work?"

Despite his rapid-fire childlike questions, her look totally screams 'duh, of course we got one' and ended with 'why would you want to do that' with his last comment. Tanna may not be smiling yet, but Tony thinks at least he's making headway to warming her up to him.

"Aye, but first you must break your fast with Prince Thor. I will speak with the Smithy on your behalf and summon him upon your return."

Deflate upon hearing that, Tony is suddenly reminded of last night's argument over Tanna. She's more than a servant apparently and is charge with Tony's care. This makes her all the more interesting.

"Tanna, when you have time, I would like you to escort me around Alfheim."

"But Prince Thor has taken upon himself to do so; I do not wish to impugn his duty."

Tony literally and figuratively waves her excuse away with his hand.

"According to what was said, Prince Thor will show me the little he knows of Alfheim. I want to know more than the little. I want a local's point of view. So please, would you be my tour guide?"

Huh? How about that? Tony manage to make the ever stoic Tanna blush like he just propose to her. Score one for the genius.

"Well, I… as you wish, Prince Anthony. Now if you would please follow me?"

* * *

Breakfast is apparently some leftovers from last night made into a stew. It isn't bad, much heavier than Tony is used to. He wants caffeine and would marry Thor in an instant if he brought him a cup of Joe. However, what the Crown Prince did brought Tony to a horse. With eight legs.

"Meet Sleipnir, the finest in Odin's stables. Father has bid me to take charge of him while I am here in hopes that he impregnate the mares on Alfheim and produce a finer steed."

Tony blanches from the statement. Is that a euphemism for their courtship? Is this Thor's way of flirting? Oh holy Einstein. Tony wants to crawl to a corner and whimper.

Shaking himself from such thoughts, he slowly blinks the seconds away before commenting offhandedly.

"I don't mean to be blunt, but isn't Sleipnir your nephew?"

That did the trick. Oh the look on Thor's face. A beat later, the big guy is laughing so hard he actually wipes his eyes of the tears. It took several moments but the Prince finally manages to find his voice.

"I…I did not know that old slander withstood the times so well! Oh, to see my brother's face when he hears this! You must bring it up again as casually as you wont when you meet him. He would be so furious with me for starting it."

Okay. So Thor is a bully. Steve Rogers would not approve. Tony suddenly feels sorry for Loki. He must have a rough childhood.

Still full of mirth though, Thor directs him to the next stall and introduces him to a beast of a warhorse name Ofrid. The stallion is stamping his foot and snorting loudly. Tony rather sits this one out actually.

"You know what, it's a fine day. Let's walk to wherever we're going."  
Cue the raise brow.

"Tis two leagues from here in a bilgesnipe infested terrain. I rather not."

Now it's Tony's turn to raise a brow.

"What's a bilgesnipe?"

"The Bilgesnipe, you know; huge, scaly, big antlers. You do not have those?"

How cute, Thor even pantomimes the features. Still, what the fuck?

"Don't think so."

"They are repulsive, and they trample everything in their path."

Thor only shrugs and moves to saddle the beast Ofrid. Hoping to nip this notion in the bud, Tony finally speaks up about it.

"Look, I know how to ride a horse. Just not very good at it. They are dangerous on both ends and crafty in the middle."

"You are… afraid? Of a horse?"

Yes. Inconceivable judging by Thor's lack of censure. Tony gesture with his hand for an acceptable level, "Do you have something lower?"

"Lower?" Thor said it like the word tasted foul and his frown intensifies.

"All the horses even the mares on average are of this size except… I would not recommend a foal for you. They are much too young to be ridden."

Then literally as if a light bulb lit above his head, the Prince brightens up with a megawatt smile. Thor makes a grab at Tony's waist and manhandles him onto Sleipnir.

"Hey!"

Before Tony could voice further objections especially at being manhandled, Thor hoists himself up behind him and secures those beefy arms around Tony's waist once more. This is not what he had in mind. Though Tony soon find himself lost for words as he holds on for dear life when Thor canters the stallion out of the stables and into a full gallop towards the forest.

* * *

If someone was to ask Tony later about this date, he would comment it was all a blur except for the beginning.

The Red Cockerel is a tavern at the edge of a large villa by the coast. And no, Tony did not heard Thor wrongly the first time he asked about the place. The pub is a seedy place with prostitutes, sailors, and dangerous looking aliens from other realms. Practically, it was a bar fight waiting to happen.

Thor is beaming from ear to ear when he orders two large tankard of mead for the both of them and directs (notice manhandle) Tony to sit at an open table by the wall, directly below the head of a huge beastlike creature with antlers mounted on it. He fleetingly wonders whether that was bilgesnipe. Then a fight does break out and stops as suddenly as it starts with the troublemakers being kicked out follow by a cheer from the patrons. Thor included.

Okay. So this is Thor's idea of a good time.

After being manhandled most of the way, made even more uncomfortable with the wall of muscles at his back and force into such company without seeing much of anything so far, Tony decides that he deserves a drink. Maybe it'll help numb the pain in his thighs from being on horseback and the weird date they're having.

Halfway through one tankard, Thor has already finished his and threw the cup down for another. A prostitute probably slash waitress brings him one and promptly throws herself on the big guy's lap. She seems familiar with the Prince. Tony may or may not have been jealous. Hard to tell when he finds himself in the same situation. Only he's been pulled onto some Alpha's lap. The blue-gray alien is huge, a good three feet taller than even Thor maybe and smell like he hasn't taken a bath in months. Tony must have blacked out from the stench or maybe the alcohol because next thing he knows Thor upended the table and throws a punch at the alien giant with a huge mean smirk plaster on his lips.

Okay. So Thor likes to have a good brawl. Tony is totally not fine with that and promptly faints.

* * *

When he came to, Tony wakes up in his own room smelling like puke and has a wet towel on his forehead. Tanna immediately helps him up and slips him some water. Only it isn't water. It tastes bitter at first and leaves a sweet flavor on his tongue.

"This will help with the nausea. When you are ready, Queen Frigga wishes to speak with you."

In hopes it is about calling off the marriage, he tells Tanna to send for her.

Half an hour later, after making himself presentable for royalty despite feeling like shit warm over, Tony sets the stage on the chaise. Frigga waits for no announcement and walks up and sits down right at the foot of the furniture.

"How are you feeling, my dear?"

Tony tries for humor in spite of his throat feeling like sandpaper. "Like I was hit by a bilgesnipe."

She cracks a smile but her face remains worried. "I must apologize for Thor's choice of affairs. He rarely visits Alfheim even when his brother stayed for tutoring. And when he does visit, tis with the Warriors Three. Their idea of sport is much different than is common practice."

In other words, a bunch of Viking hooligans. This is Thor's pack though. Not what Tony has in mind to be a part of. His disgust must have shown on his face. Frigga is quick to play devil's advocate.

"Thor means well and thinks the best of situations. Please reserve judgment after you get to know him better? I have spoken with him as has his brother. He is contrite and wishes to make amends. You will find a different Thor at your feet."

Is he ready to throw the Alliance to the winds? Tony hasn't forgotten about the ramifications and he is curious as to what happen at the tavern. He didn't drank that much. Did he?

Hesitantly, he finds himself nodding in agreement. This brought much relief to her demeanor and Frigga broke out into a full smile.

"After you break fast in the morrow, your courtship will begin anew. Rest well, Anthony."

* * *

Tony is wary of Thor.

As promise, he met the Crown Prince on the balcony he arrived at. The big guy did look contrite and embarrassed.

Good, he thought up until Thor doesn't stop walking till he's in Tony's personal space. He would have taken a few steps back but that would land him over the cliffs. He has nowhere to run and reluctantly admires the Prince's choice of strategic location.

"Prince Anthony Stark of Midgard, I have wronged you. If you seek recompense for my slight I will do so without hesitation. I only seek your forgiveness and hope in time you would grant me your hand in marriage."

Wow. After what was said, Tony felt their little disaster of a date didn't merit such a declaration. Yeah, it was pretty bad but to seek recompense? Whatever contexts that means, he has no intention of doing the sort. And yeah, the apology is a little flowery but given the Shakespeare in the park vibe, Tony digs it. Even in his mother's drapery, what would the cape and all, the big guy is sporting the full armored regalia. Which makes him wonder, does Thor go into every situation like a battle? Perhaps he does. It means he means business.

Okay. So yeah, Tony is impressed.

Thor is honest, straightforward and apparently what you see is what you get. No beating around the bush with this one. Sure, his other negative attributes still stand but Tony can work with that he suppose.

"Alright, big guy. Let's give this courting thing another go. What do you have plan for today?"

And if Tony is starting to be a little less annoyed by Thor's megawatt smile, the Prince can be none the wiser.

"I have a few people I would introduce you to, if you will permit me? But first, I understand you would like to visit the forge?"


	5. Interlude: The Consult

Loki always knows when Thor is approaching.

There is a difference of course to the prelude, foul or fair. Were it foul, tis very much like a storm brewing. The once clear sky darkens, clouds gather, and the first strike of lightning heralds his entry. In contrast, were it fair, the sky would brighten, clouds are swept away, and the air static with electricity.

A flash of light and the distant rumble of thunder set the mood for Thor's reception. Tis fortunate then, Loki has not been stirring any plots of late. Well, not against Thor at least. He has much bigger plans to embroil. Rarely, does he feel any trepidation towards his brother's visit. However, he is not so foolish as to let his guard down either.

The doors to his study burst open. The mighty Thor stomps his way in. Loki remains seated at his desk, pretending to be nonplus about his brother's entry and continues scanning the several tomes of books lay out. It does not mean Loki did not dart his eyes upwards to take account of Thor. His brother has chosen to retain his leather vest but sans cape and Mjolnir; must have been out riding no doubt. Although, his linens are torn in a few places and his leathers are scuffed. Ah, a fight as well. What is peculiar though, is the expression on Thor's countenance: tis a cross between frustration and resignation.

Knowing where his brother was supposed to be and seeing him here, this may prove entertaining. Loki has detected no malice towards his own person, so he remains distant from his brother's approach. Best not play too interested has always been his mantra.

Thor always did find ways to get his attention though. Unhappy from being ignored, his brother plops down heavily on the wooden chair opposite of Loki and lifts his log-size legs onto the desk; dirty boots with mud and all, atop his precious books. He glares at his brother whilst Thor only raises a brow in return.

Loki prepares himself for most likely be another of Thor's rants. These meetings tend to be almost always one-sided. If Loki is to be heard, he would need to consult his own mother. He did not mind though, it only means he can steer his brother however which way he wants with Thor oftentimes none the wiser.

"Aye, brother?"

Thor brightens upon hearing that, just like Loki thought he would.

"How goes your task?"

Avoiding the issue, a sure indication of a guilty conscious if he ever saw one. Loki relents for now. He makes a point to push Thor's muddy boots off the books.

"These tomes are older than you Thor, have care."

Having gotten his way, his brother lowers his feet and slouches low on the chair with his thighs wide spread; a vulgar display of Alpha body language if he ever saw one. Loki pretends it did not annoy him out of habit. He carefully closes the books and sends them back to the library with a wave of his fingers unveiling a large leather map beneath. There are marks and notes all over the hide. He then gestures to the map.

"Considering I have been working on it for nigh a century, most would say tis a hopeless endeavor."

The brothers sat in comfortable silence for a moment contemplating the issues, until Thor chances a hopeful look at Loki.

"Have you considered granting father a reprieve in return for his assistance?"

This time, Loki drops the facade and releases his annoyance full force. Like always, the subject brings back the raw memories even after so many years.

"Odin has withheld my true nature and inheritance for nigh a millennium. I will not grant him the satisfaction of knowingly becoming his pawn: just another relic in the weapons vault. I do this my way or not at all."

He is up and pacing about. It never fails to put him in high dudgeon whenever Odin is mention.

"Loki, you have forgiven mother and I for our transgressions have you not? You are a Prince of Asgard still. Why must you remain stubborn regarding father?"

It would seem Thor has resume to champion Odin's cause even now. It still hurts Loki knowing that if Odin asks Thor to jump, his brother will only ask how high.

"I call you brother, do I not? Wherein mother loves me unconditionally, Odin gives niceties to falsehood. Must you remain his champion, even here? Tis my sanctuary you have invaded."

He could not hold back the bitterness even if he tried; tis an old shirt Loki wore well. He stops his pacing and faces his brother waiting for a response.

"I do not wish to fight you and I would not even if father demands it. Unless, of course, you commit something atrocious or try to begin Ragnorok, then I have no choice in the matter."

Oh, that again! He knows Thor spoke in jest however Loki is tired of hearing it. He is the master of his own history making from now on.

"There is no Balder the Brave in the Book of Records, Thor. Hel has confirmed it. Must you always paint me the villain?"

Thor now raises both hands to placate him, his posture in supplicant. Grudgingly, Loki is sooth by the deference, just a little even though he remains annoyed still.

"Calm down brother. My purpose is not to offend or to champion. I came for your counsel."

Alas, the truth! Loki moves back to his chair. He has a feeling this might get lengthy judging by how long Thor has put off his true intentions. He leans forward on the desk, props an arm up and braces his chin on his fist.

"I thought as much. What have you done now, Thor?"

Tis rare indeed when the mighty Thor actually looks and feels apologetic.

"I think I may have offended my Betroth. At least that is what mother tells me."

Ah, yes! Loki has place bets with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three for how long it would take Thor to seek counsel. Despite the Lady Sif insisting that the mighty Thor does not fail at any task, she readily set her markers with the others. Suffice it to say, Loki won. He set to scribe the meeting as proof. Discretely, of course.

"Indeed? Less than a day? This I must hear!"

Thor sends him a look as if he might regret it, he probably would.

"I know not where to start."

Stalling for time once more, it must have been a great offense to warrant such tactics. Loki tries to rein in his mischievous smirk and fails.

"Try the beginning, Thor."

Knowing the battle is lost his brother releases a sigh and began his tale.

"Aye. I did not know what to expect upon meeting him, but Anthony is… tiny."

Loki could not help it, but giggle he did. Oh, that is a very good inkling to where this is going. Thor only shakes his head in warning to cease commentary until he is finish. Loki cannot promise more than a half shrug.

"Aye, tiny. The top of his head reaches my chest—"

"Good for embracing."

Thor gives him the look for cutting him off, but Loki's wide-eye demeanor could not fool anyone.

"His body is muscular, but compact—"

"A fit and healthy body type I hear that is very popular in Midgard."

His brother pauses again but gives up and resumes when Loki continues to serve him the same doe eyes.

"His features: a chisel jaw, eyes are deep set brown as is his hair, define cheekbones, a straight nose, soft complexion and full lips—"

"Ah, masculine yet sultry; an ideal combination for an Omega is it not?"

"Aye, but he seem so delicate, I fear of breaking him—"

Loki cannot play around this. It is such a strange issue to complain about.

"You are aware that the Ambassador states your Betroth not only is he a renowned warrior of his generation but also an unmatched scholar since their Renaissance? You could not break him easily."

"I do not see how?"

Loki raises a brow at that one and points to himself as an example.

"Aye, you have demonstrated your mettle one too many times throughout the centuries for anyone to discredit your prowess. Tis your use of magic in combination that many finds foul."

That again.

"You too, I remember. However, there was the time in Nornheim—"

"Where I have fought my way through a hundred warriors and pulled us out alive—"

Aye. Loki can see how annoying it is to be interjected.

"As I recall, I was the one who veiled us in smoke to ease our escape."

"Some do battle, others just do tricks."

Loki's eyes narrows and retorts instead, "Next time I would not be so magnanimous and escape myself. Would you last before I send for help I wonder?"

Thor immediately realizes his mistake and placates once more.

"Probably, but have peace, brother. I mean no slight."

In the past, Loki may have kept close account to all the wrongs Thor has dealt him, but he finds it easier to feed his rage and let it stew instead.

"Tis forgotten. You are hedging again."

With a nod, Thor begins again.

"Aye. The feast was in full bloom when…."

* * *

Tis nearly an hour later when Thor completes his account. By the end of it he had Loki in stitches. It is a long while before he was able to control his laughter.

"Oh, brother! Are you so clueless as to commit one offense after another?"

Thor has never taken to be ridiculed by others as easily as he would have being the instigator. This, Loki knows. However he feels vindicated by this rare incident all the same. Although judging by his brother's growing lack of patience, Loki decides to enlighten him quickly.

"Midgardians consider themselves to be refine individuals with their complicated rules of engagement. Your Asgardian habits must have alarm him I am sure. However that can be overlooked. Your greatest offense is dismissing his fear of horses and breeching tradition by riding with you on Sleipnir."

He gave Thor a moment to take it in, however typical of the oaf, his reply says it all.

"I do not see how that is?"

This is important. Although Loki cannot say that he is a champion for all Omegas, or for this instant, Thor's Betroth, however he can say this is a chance to teach his brother a lesson in propriety.

"Did he submit to you? Given you any indication to approach him intimately? To allow your scent to mark him?"

His brother remains quiet, mulling over the day's event. Suddenly he vacates his chair and runs a hand through his hair. Frustration clearly written all over his feature when he raises a hand to gesture widely as it is his turn to pace.

"That is the crux, brother. I cannot tell. He has behaved strangely cordial throughout. His appetite dainty; his presence fleeting; his comments, while humorous are non-personal; his body language distant and his scent absent."

Hmm. Tis a problem indeed. Loki has some inkling on how to resolve this, but he needs more detail.

"What was his reaction to you, with your close proximity on Sleipnir?"

Thor pause his steps and turn to face Loki. His face pinched in remembrance.

"His back was stiff the entire time, did not relax against me at all. He was completely silent as well."

Loki shakes his head upon coming to a conclusion, but he wants Thor to remember this so he tells him to recount further.

"And what was Prince Anthony's reaction to the Alpha troll who forced him on its lap? His scent must have been overwhelming, aye?"

It finally dawns on Thor when he gasps at his discovery. Tis about time, Loki thought.

"What must I do to rectify this mistake?"

Tis times like this that Loki feels truly superior to Thor. This kind of advice he would give freely since the chances of it coming back to bite him is slim to none. Thor's Betroth can thank him later.

"First apologize, mayhap even grovel a bit. Also you may do well by Tanna, perhaps you will find her to be a strong ally in wooing your Betroth. Then introduce him to your pack. It may provide Prince Anthony some comfort to know them, although a little goes a long way. And be sure to keep Fandral a sword's throw away."

For the first time since the Thunderer arrived, a smile of genuine relief graces his face. His brother moved to embrace him and Loki allows it.

"I thank you, Loki. You should vacate this tower and come down and meet him. I think the two of you would make great friends. I will send for Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. We could have our grand adventures again."

Before Thor could finish his invite, Loki is already shaking his head in negation.

"I no longer belong to your pack, brother; although it would be remiss of me to snub the introduction of the future Royal Consort of Asgard. Very well, in a fortnight I shall do so. That should give you enough time to secure your Betroth prior to introducing another unattached Alpha to the scene once more."

Satisfied with his response, Thor gives his approval and Loki could not help but feel valued. Old habits were hard to kill apparently.

"And I hold you to it."


	6. Dog Days in Alfheim, Part I

When Tony was barely a year old, after a routine blood test, his parents found out about the results from the New York Post rather than his pediatrician. Typical of Howard, his father sued the newspaper, the doctor and the blood clinic but the damage was already done. The cat was out of the bag, so to speak. Play dates with prominent families became mergers and takeovers. Howard was really good at baiting without promising Tony to the highest bidder. For years, speculation on the future of Stark Industries was a regular headline. Never mind that Tony can rebuild a car engine from scratch at the age of seven.

In vain, Tony labored to impress his father like Captain America did, to see beyond his Omega status as leverage. He didn't want to be paraded about and be some Alpha's trophy. It turned out, when the World Security Council came knocking, Howard didn't accept anything less for his son than an alien Prince and exclusive rights to technology beyond human scope. He was nine when his father made the deal as sole source to the Alliance and kept the trade secrets close to his vest.

By the time he turned eleven, Stark Industries was already on the cutting edge, but the Proclamation contract put the company on the bleeding edge of technology, twenty years ahead of its time. The company's success only pushed the greedy Board of Directors headed by Obadiah Stane to hunger for more and made Tony's gilded cage smaller.

Facing false claims, coerce bonds, and attempted kidnapping became regularity. The few classmates he had were suspect, his mentors as easy pundits, and pack mates became nonexistent. He couldn't trust anyone and wasn't allowed to form any type of bonds even if he wanted to due to Howard's iron control.

So to hear Thor's request made Tony feel all kinds of unease. What a novelty to have an Alpha ask him his preference. The big guy must have talked to Tanna even though the other day Thor was ragging on her for being just a lowly servant. Granted Tony didn't specify her to be discreet about their interactions, he should have said something. It only proves to trust no one. The only silver lining is that at least Thor cares enough to find out what he likes this time.

They were heading to the Royal stables again when imagine his surprise, Thor bypass the stalls and leads Tony down toward the open pasture. He had assume they would need to travel to the forge and Tony rather get on a horse again verses having the Smithy come to him as Tanna had plan. So this, this is unexpected. Two mammoth goats (or rams maybe), about two-thirds the size of Sleipnir stood grazing beneath a gnarled looking tree.

Thor walks right up to them and starts petting their sides with affection. A broad smile spans his face when the pair bleats loudly in return, "Meet Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjostr."

Being not very fond of animals of any sorts, Tony kept his distance. He remembers reading about them, but the words are too foreign for him to even try pronouncing. He says instead, "Um, translation please?"

"Toothgnasher and Toothgrinder, I raised them since they were little."

Odd names but so is everyone here. Tony only read the Cliff's Note version of Norse myths seeing as how it isn't even recommended by some of the dignitaries as factual resource. He'd seen for himself, Queen Frigga or Freyja seems to be one and the same person like a few scholars has surmised. Also Loki is the son of Odin and not his brother. These mythical beings whose influence human cultures are just long lived aliens. Not gods. Tony has no problem differentiating the misnomer and looks forward to seeing more of their technology. So far though, he's not that impress with the medieval backdrop with the exception of the Bifrost and AllSpeak. Even meeting a few varieties of alien species hasn't really floated his boat quite as much as probably Bruce would have if they were to switch places.

Unsure of what the protocol for meeting pets were, he gave a cursory wave at them and says, "Nice pets."

Tony wonders briefly whether the part about Thor using them for food and conveniently reviving them with a magic hammer is true. So far, he hasn't seen the mythical hammer at all. It is written that Thor, the thunder god, and the hammer are inseparable. At this point, Tony chalks that part up to a writer's fanciful embellishment.

When Thor begins to tack up one of the goats, a suspicious thought set in, "I hope you don't mean for me to ride one of them?"

The big guy only pauses for a moment before he continues his task.

"I have considered when last we spoke you have wanted lower— a smaller creature to ride upon. Alas, they are as mischievous as my brother," Thor says in all seriousness.

He then explains to Tony's puzzled expression, "They bite."

Since biting goats are much more dangerous than horses, he relaxes a bit. Tony had meant that question as a partial joke but it has been hit or miss with the big guy. However, he couldn't help and chuckle at Thor's own words. It probably isn't meant to be funny.

At his reaction, Thor looks curiously at Tony before stating, "No riding this day, mayhap when you are more acquainted. Instead, they often pull my chariot. Would they meet your approval?"

A chariot drive à la Ben Hur style?

"Hell yeah!"

* * *

It took them less than a half hour to arrive at what looks like the gates of Mordor built flush against the bottom of a cliff, right next to the waterfall Tony saw when he first arrive at the stone balcony. By his estimate of the distance, it should have taken the goats several hours. That is if they were traveling at whatever stands for average speed for goats. Tony estimated ten miles an hour at best. Apparently Thor's pets had his Bugatti beat without even breaking a sweat. And Tony didn't even arrived wind chapped either, even though the passing scenery was a blur. Now that he'd thought about it, the trip to the coast on Sleipnir went pretty much the same.

Considering what he's seen, Tony begins to see why Asgard's Viking culture is stagnating. They have a Bifrost wormhole that eliminates building space ships for large-scale travel; animals that can move and respond faster than any vehicle for small-scale travel; and AllSpeak to overcome any language barriers. If he is to deduce, the forge would probably be advance and old school at the same time. Which makes hiring Earth for the Alliance needs makes sense. Humans practically pioneered the art of mass production.

And from what Tony's read between the lines, what is seen as a problem on Earth is actually a plus to other Realms. With such long life spans, the evolutionary need to procreate must be genetically muted. Although this doesn't explain the natural order of Alpha, Beta, and Omegas being retain in their genetic makeup. Social scientists would deduce asexuality as an eventuality if that is the case, so it must be something else. What it does explain is that their population growth must also be stagnating as well, in which their Council's agenda to encourage interspecies bonding through Thor makes sense; a larger gene pool is needed to replenish the stock. How SHIELD would spin this after the galactic war should be interesting to witness. Come to think of it, most likely it would involve Tony pregnant with an alien baby as a spokesperson. Wonderful.

Upon their arrival, the gates immediately open and Thor lightly pulls the rein to stop the massive goats at the front courtyard. The Prince jump down first and raise both hands up towards Tony and caught himself from going further. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Tony nods his consent and Thor beams up at him before lifting him down.

An elder looking cat-elf with tawny colorings, very much like a humanoid version of Garfield minus the potbelly and Cheshire grin, greets both Princes with the usual hand to heart bow. Though Tony does notice that the bow isn't very formal or very low. In fact, the old elf looks altogether put out. To Tony the scenario seems weird too, especially with such a large operation. He expected the place to be bustling with elf-folks or maybe a dwarf or two.

"Greetings Prince Thor and welcome to Onollo or simply Stone Cliff, Prince Anthony Stark of Midgard. Prince Loki has sent a missive before your arrival and as much as we appreciate a good warning, I hope you understand how much this visit delays the war efforts?"

Definitely grumpy elf is speaking to Thor on that count. Wow, disrespectful and chiding a Prince no less. Tony likes the guy already. Thor on the other hand, judging by that frown, does not.

"Know your place, Mortan. We shall not take long. Anthony has expressed an interest to tour the Royal Forge and wish to make a request. See that tis done."

Those old resentful eyes pierce Tony with their gaze. Not wanting to be associated with Thor's arrogance, Tony sneaks a peak at Thor and rolled his eyes for effect. Mortan snorts in response while his Betroth remain oblivious.

"Very well. Come, Prince Anthony. I have given the workers an hour off. You look like a person who will ask many questions. Let us make haste. There is much to see and many grounds to cover."

When Thor makes no move to follow them, Tony stops and turns around to inquire, "Aren't you coming?"

It is only polite, since this is supposed to be their second date. The Prince is already tending to his pet goats when he wave Tony off, "I am quite familiar with Onollo and I suspect Mortan will be much more forthcoming with answers were I to remain scarce. I trust that no harm is to come upon my Betroth."

That definitely isn't a question and not meant for him obviously. He'd probably get a better reception with Tanna. The old cat-elf merely nods to acknowledge the threat before he signals Tony to follow him once more.

The open courtyard they arrive in split into two sections to what looks like a separation of living quarters and work area that were cut into the cliff side. Mortan didn't even bother pointing out the living quarters, where Tony suspects are where the workers are. This did make him pause in thought wondering briefly why they had to stop all work because of a royal visit. Well, whatever; he's about to see elfish engineering at its finest.

Regardless of his age, Mortan crosses the threshold to the work area with swift efficient steps; all business to get this visit done and over with. Perhaps it was, all business that is since the elf did mention production work for the war efforts. They must have inspections and deliverable visits all the time.

Tony pass through the threshold and into a large cavernous chamber with torches for lighting and minimal furnishings, a few chairs and small bistro-like tables scattered about, most likely a lobby of sorts. Beyond the lobby were half dozen hallways, each were varying size of width and height. Instead of choosing a path and going any further, Mortan turns around and face Tony. Interestingly enough, the grumpy face is gone completely. Only curiosity carved the frown lines. Or so Tony thought.

"Before we continue, I hear from Ambassador Larien that your holdings are overseeing Midgard's efforts for the war. Which lead me to inquire, why the immediate interest here? Are you planning to usurp our entire commission? If that is the case, you can take your sweet arse back to Midgard."

Fair enough, Tony's eyebrows shot close to his hairline.

"Whoa! It's nothing like that man—er elf. I am a man of science and an engineer!"

Seeing the puzzle look, Tony rubs the back of his head with a hand as he tries to sort out his lingo a bit better.

"You know; a person who builds and tinker with stuff? Figure out how things work and tick? And make it ten times better? Not that I'm planning to do that for whatever you elves are doing of course. "

The tawny elf gives him a measure look that lasted longer than it should to be comfortable and finally snorts before muttering something unintelligible about the wrong brother. Tony chalks it up to old folks being ornery.

"I believe you. So let us make this quick, I got a schedule to keep and your scent is only getting thicker. As you say, what makes you tick then?"

This really isn't the kind of tour Tony is expecting but he'll take whatever he can get, although the comment about his scent makes him wonder if his human body odor is really that offensive? He chalks it up to aliens with sensitive noses again.

"Well, I'm really interested to see the operation as a whole, the workspace, the techniques on the tools use, the stuff you work with and how."

Mortan finally flashes him a smile, brief as it is since he begins talking immediately.

"That is quite broad, Prince. You see there?"

The old elf points widely at the different size corridors.

"We separate the work area on the scale of the commission. Each chamber is self-contained except for the grander scale commissions that require assembly. In that case, we use the courtyard. So let me ask you again, what do you fancy?"

Tony rubs his chin as he thinks.

"Besides weapons, what else are you making?"

Mortan snorts again.

"Do you know of any Asgardian who does not want more weapon or armor? Rarely do we receive differently. If I heard Prince Thor correctly, you have a commission for us?"

He isn't prepared. Tony is hoping to see what the forge is like prior to revealing his intent. It looks like the old elf is determined to know before showing him anything.

"Okay, so I get the whole preference for hand to hand combat thing, but I prefer a range of defense and offense. So I built this thing here."

He begins to remove one of his leather vambrace and flash Mortan the metal cuff underneath with what looks like a glowing jewel that he wears habitually and demo how it works. The plates begin to span out and encloses his entire hand up pass the wrist. The glowing circle flashes in warning on his palm.

Mortan didn't even bother asking but immediately took up his gauntlet hand and inspects it. For good reason, Tony begins to feel rather nervous.

"A bit rudimentary. The metal could be better and the power source limiting. The design could be more protective of the wielder. Though the weapon concealment aspect is certainly un-Asgardian."

He knew it. Tony recognizes disapproval when he hears it as he deactivate the gauntlet and place the leather vambrace back on. At least he thought it was until the old cat quips, "If this is a sample of Midgardian science, I approve."

Relieved, Tony breaks into a wide grin and shares the rest, "This actually belongs to an entire suit of armor. I would have brought it with me but my Uncle Steve started giving a lecture and I cave. I'm on the seventh model right now. There are a few things I want to change and add. I was hoping maybe I can get some pointers for design and suggestions for materials? Maybe even use a small part of the forge to build it?"

Before he even finish, Mortan is shaking his head no. Tony would pout if it didn't make him look un-Princely.

"Absolutely not, not until you are bonded. Even then, tis questionable especially with this particular one as your Betroth."

This isn't good. Tony is hoping to have something to do whilst he waste his days being courted. His boredom would kill him probably long before any foreign sickness would.

"Now do not look so disappointed. You may not work here at your disposal, however if I recall, there is a small forge near the stable the horse smith uses at Gimlé."

Hopping with excitement, Tony presses onward, "So you'll help me?"

"You are a peculiar one I will grant you that, young one. Aye, I shall provide you with the aide you need. I do question the need for a full suit of armor. If it is of similar material, how can you move when the power fails you?"

He shrugs. Tony guess as much, it's always nearly the first question people ask him.

"I'm only mortal and besides I can fly in it. As to the power problem, let's say I have a good source built in."

Mortan actually looks impressed.

"Indeed? I would express then, the need for armor whilst not in the suit and train in weapons that require your own strength to wield. Tis decided, I shall show you this one."

And the old cat moves decisively to the second corridor to the right as if they hadn't stopped to chitchat. For his age, which is probably older than some civilizations, Mortan moves rather quickly. Tony is so busy trying to catch up with him through the meandering passage it takes him a while to realize what he step into. The dome shape cavern is about the size of a baseball field. He could see the outlines of the different workspace perfectly and understood the reason why the forge is located next to a waterfall.

The elves had harness the power of a watermill, very much like a finery forge to automate some of the smelting, grinding and sawing process. Off centered from the middle, is a round pool of molten fire. Surrounding the perimeter were anvils of various size and shapes, some standard looking and others a variation of. There is one ginormous anvil in particular that looks like it would take ten blacksmith to hammer whatever is on it out. Above the fire pit is a large shaft that probably is used to funnel the toxic fumes outward.

Mortan calls him over to the rows and rows of shelves filled with a variety of armor pieces and weapons. He points at what looks like swatches of cloths.

"I recommend something like this chainmail as a layer of armor to be worn when you are force to vacate the suit."

Tony picks up a sample of light thin chainmail that looks similar to the mithril shirt describe from Lord of the Rings. It really isn't his style.

"Actually, this is too thick and slippery. I usually wear a thin cloth t-shirt and jeans underneath."

Mortan grunts.

"These items you mention do not sound like they offer much protection if at all. So a thin yet clingy strong material….ah! I know just the one."

The elf points at another sample of cloth to him and Tony immediately picks it up and put the fabric through the ringer of stretching and tries tearing it. It doesn't budge. Also, seen from a certain light the fabric looks transparent to a point where it blends in. This would make him appear nude; again not really his style.

"No offense, but I rather not appear in my birthday suit when I'm out of the suit."

Mortan frowns in confusion.

"What is this birthday suit you speak of?"

Damn it, Tony thought he could get by a day without flushing beet red.

"It means, um… appearing nude."

Cackling. Honest to Einstein, the ornery grumpy elf from before is cackling at his expense.

"Aye! Heh heh! I can see how this material might display your comely figure. This material is infused with shadow thread from Svartalheim and offers you concealment as well as protection."

Stealth mode? Awesome!

"Nice, what other properties does it have? Is it temperature regulating? Energy dissipative or capacitive? How much damage can it handle?"

Mortan shook his head in good humor; a broad smile creasing his face.

"I believe you to be the kind who would prefer to find out for himself. Take a few samples of materials I have and mull it over. Once you figure them out then we can talk of designs and such."

Tony's returning smile is equally as wide.

"Deal!"

The tawny elf began sorting through a few more samples and placed them in a burlap sack for him. When they were done with that rack, Mortan led him to a wall full of weapons of various length and sizes. Although all newly made, the type of weaponry looks like they belong to a museum; in the ancient warfare section for close combat. Tony personally prefers the World Wars section.

"So which do you fancy?"

He didn't want to seem unappreciative so Tony ventured a closer look. Being in the weapons business, he isn't unfamiliar with the items displayed. He made a point to become an expert in the field and excel at it after all. Once the galactic war is over, Tony intends to divert Stark Industries more towards security, robotics, and telecommunications. It would probably be against his father's wishes, but Tony wants to eventually phase out from weapons making. Having the title Merchant of Death christened by Obadiah isn't something he wants to be proud of. Being crown the Da Vinci of his Generation had a better ring to it, even though he doesn't paint.

Pick something, the old elf says. There are various types of staffs, quarterstaffs, spears, and halberds. Not really Tony's style. He sidesteps quickly away from the section of war hammers, morning stars, maces, and axes. If Clint is here, he would have drool over the different range of crossbows and long bows. And then there are the blades, lots and lots of them with different width and length. A few of them reminded him of this rare blade called the Ulfberht made circa 800 A.D. It is a thing of beauty. Again not really his style, although Tony could see Uncle Steve wielding it in one hand and his shield on the other.

"You fancy that and the long bow do you?"

Startle from his reverie, Tony spins around to face Mortan.

"Actually, I was thinking of my pack mates back home. My friend Clint is a trick shot and fancy long-range weapons, but his passion is bows and arrows. And then my Uncle Steve has this huge round Spartan type of shield made from Vibranium. That long sword here probably would go well with it."

"Are they Omega warriors like you?"

Uh oh. Tony recognizes that look. It always seem to happen when he mention his pack mates somehow or other. There are two categories: either they are interested or disgusted. Never neutral about it.

"Sorta. Clint is a Beta who bonded recently to an Alpha called Black Widow and Steve is an Omega who puts the super in super soldier."

Oh boy. That look certainly belongs to the interested category.

"Is he bonded as well?"

So Tony huffs in warning, "Look you can stop that thought right now. My Uncle Steve is not a typical Omega, he's a pioneer, practically a national treasure. He leads our pack like an Alpha and doesn't take anybody's dominant shit. Many has tried and failed."

Oh no. Tony did a mental face palm. He just fanned the flames apparently.

"Sounds like an Omega worth earning. My son, Calder, is looking for a mate for two centuries. If you put in a good word and provide him an opportunity, I shall teach you what I can."

Damn it. The old tabby cat-elf drives a hard bargain: Steve's virtue or ancient alien knowledge? He thought about it for only a minute.

"I can't promise you his hand in marriage, but I can introduce him to your son. It'll be up to Steve whether he wants to be wooed or not, capisce?"

"As you say, deal."

Proud of his bargain, Mortan smiles with all teeth, which reminds Tony of the creepy Cheshire cat and pointedly looks away.

"Prince Anthony, you have yet to mention your preference. I cannot believe I have nothing here worthy of your interest."

Tony shrugs before commenting, "I usually built my own stuff, as you can see from the gauntlet. I like range capabilities: lasers, missiles, bullets, bombs, like that. The gauntlet can shoot repulsor beams and the armor suit has all that other stuff built in."

Mortan shakes his head as if he's disappointed with what he's hearing.

"Aye, for Midgardian tis understandable. However, what if your power source is down and all your ammunitions are gone? What then?"

"Now you sound like my Uncle Steve. Look I've trained in a few fighting styles, Wing Chun, Jiu-jitsu, Kendo, stuff like that. Most of the time, my suit ends the fight and I go home and eat celebratory pizza without anything broken or bruised up. It's all good."

Mortan shakes his head again; it's probably because he couldn't understand half of what Tony is saying.

"A war is upon us. You will need more than one suit to hold back the hoard. Our enemies would not stop until all cease to exist."

Tony knew the old guy is right, it's just not something he likes to dwell on.

"You're the close range weapons expert; you tell me what you think I need?"

"You have mentioned the training you had; a demonstration should help my assessment of you."

So a kata it is. Tony jogs his memory of a weapon he trained in and moves to a wide-open space to demo as if he has a bokken in hand. A few minutes later, upon finishing, he turns toward Mortan for his evaluation.

"Well?"

"A two handed weapon that can be use single handed as well. Light weight, medium reach, mainly used for slicing and stabbing. A curve single sided blade with a sharp tip. It would need to have a good balance as well as an amalgamation of hard and soft metals. I am picturing a long hilt with a round guard and leathered grip, possibly a scabbard worn at the waist."

Tony didn't feel too guilty about dangling Steve on the platter. Mortan's knowledge is so worth it.

"It's called a katana back on Midgard. A legendary sword smith called Masamune used seven layers of various type of steel to make his finest creations. There's only a few left in our world."

Intrigued, Mortan ventures a guess, "You have one, aye? Tis a test?"

It is Tony's turn to grin like a Cheshire.

"As you would say, aye. I didn't bring it with me, but I do have the design."

He digs into the pocket of his leather vest and fishes the folded blue print paper out. They move to a somewhat empty table and spread the paper out. Mortan takes a moment to process the information.

"I shall take up your challenge. You will find my craftsmanship to be better than legend."

"It better."

Tony holds out a hand to shake on it, but Mortan gives him an odd look.

"On Midgard, we shake hands to seal the deal."

"That is an odd custom. Do all Alphas, Betas and Omegas share scent willingly? Without reservation?"

"Um, yes and no. We usually wear gloves with strangers. So yeah, I forgot."

Tony activates his gauntlet once more and this time Mortan takes his offer.

The sudden reverberation of a giant bell being rung reaches them.

"That is the first warning bell. I believe your time is up, Prince Anthony. We must resume our work. It will be an honor to work with you. I will send word upon completing your commission."

They had begun their short trek back to the open courtyard.

"Do you have an estimate on how long it would take? I would like to consult you about the materials for the under-suit once I completed my experiments."

It didn't take long before they reach the threshold in the lobby. Mortan pauses to think about it.

"I will see to the commission myself, however given my schedule, I would say less than a fortnight if all goes well. Meanwhile, I am sure you will have enough to keep you busy."

Tony fails to hold back a sigh upon that reminder.

"Yeah. Prince Thor wants me to meet his pack mates. I have a feeling they aren't really my kind of company. I rather be here or working on the under-suit idea."

Mortan shakes his head in good humor.

"I realize you have been rather candid with me even though we have just met. I enjoy your company, Prince Anthony. If I were younger and hopefully my mate would not kill me for thinking such, Prince Thor will find he has more than one contender to compete with. And do not worry so. I have met his pack mates for several of their commissions. You will find Lady Sif and the Warriors three to be ideal companions for Thor. They are loyal, protective, and fierce warriors. However they do have their faults so I do not envy you. Be well."

With a bow that is much more respectful than the earlier one, Mortan makes his exit as he walks toward the living quarters. Tony is flattered by old elf's flirting and couldn't help but feel only fondness. He moves his gaze to Thor and his waiting chariot then wishes he can say the same of his Betroth.

For a second date, it sucks.


	7. Dog Days in Alfheim, Part II

They were back on the chariot. Tony can't say he is enjoying the scenery. It is very much like being in any supersonic vehicle, anything close by is a blur except for the wind tunnel view at the front or the back. The cobblestone road from and to the castle is wide and indirect, with twists and turns to accommodate natural landmarks like bypassing ancient looking trees and cutting across riverbeds. From the two roads he's travelled so far, Tony can safely deduce that the elfish version of civil engineering is construction not for convenience or efficiency, but of necessity. That and they seem to value nature like Frey had mention.

"How… did you find Onollo?"

It is the first time Thor attempt conversation of any kind in their outings. The one about his pets didn't count. Tony had just assumed the other isn't interested in small talk. After hearing the hesitation though, he's willing to give the big guy the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Thor doesn't know what he's doing either. Tony turns his stance lightly then braces his back against the chariot so that he can face the other without getting a neck crank. Huh, Thor's profile didn't lend much but guess.

So he says, "Good, even though I only got to one forge where they make the handheld weapons and light armor."

"I had expected Mortan to see to your needs, not to slight you so. I shall have words with him when I see him next."

Thor got the whole wrathful god look down if Tony ever really believed in that utter nonsense. Yup, complete with the scowl, the nose flare, and thunderous tone.

Realizing his words were taken as a complaint, Tony verbally backpedals, "No, no! He didn't shortchange me at all! I was totally catered, even got an ETA on my commission too. So I'm good; a completely satisfied customer. 'Kay?"

How Thor manages to switch facial expression without pulling a muscle, Tony would never know.

"Aye, that is good to hear."

They fell back into companionable silence as Thor happily guides the goats at a breakneck speed. Now that Tony thought about it, does the chariot even have brakes? What if they had to stop for a deer or that bilgesnipe thing? Now that the chatter started, Tony decides to fill up the silence with his personal brand of inanity, no time like the present to get the big guy use to his quirks.

"Can this thing come with seatbelts?"

Thor takes a moment to mull over his words before he inquires back.

"If I understand your wording correctly, it is a seat… with belts?"

Tony nods with a smirk, "Yes."

As predicted, now the big guy looks confused.

"There are no seats on a chariot and why would you wish to strap yourself to one if there were? Would it not be inconvenient to move about?"

Tony breaks into a wide grin before he lectures in a serious manner, "It is design for safety in mind. In Midgard, when we travel in fast vehicles and have to brake abruptly, the person won't be sent flying."

Thor goes from frowning to grinning, "Aye, worry not. I am the Mighty Thor. My reflexes shall prevent such an occurrence and likewise catch you before you fall."

It would seem he isn't the only one people say has a big ego. How humbling.

Chuckling softly, Tony comments out of the blue, "Aren't you the least bit curious what I ask Mortan to make me?"

With a shrug of nonchalance, Thor simply states, "Not at all. If you wish to share it, I shall be delighted to hear it."

Huh, sounds like a line straight from those Jane Austen movies Steve likes to pick for his turn on movie night. Not that Tony memorizes those sappy lines per se he just has a very good memory.

So Tony shrugs back, "Mortan says it'll take him less than two weeks to make it. I'll share it then."

This time, Thor actually turns his head to look at Tony with amazement before his gaze verves back to the road. He didn't have to wonder long about the reason.

"Ever since Mortan was appointed foreman of the Royal Forge by my father, he has forsaken the title of Master Weapon-smith. Tis a great honor indeed for him to take upon this task."

"Oh."

Wow. What more can he say. Tony knew the old cat-elf can talk shop with him, he didn't know Mortan is THAT good. Now, he couldn't wait until the two weeks is up. He must have really made an impression.

"The shade of your blush is redder than your shirt."

What the hell! Tony glares at Thor's grinning profile for commenting on the obvious. Again, that is not how one flirts.

"And you sir, are a jerk."

Take that Shakespeare.

"Tis not I, but I shall endeavor to drive the chariot at an even pace."

Lost in translation by default, even an insult goes unnoticed.

The castle is a welcome sight. Up ahead, he could make out the gnarled tree the goats were grazing under from earlier. Now there were four lightly armored humanoids; very tall and by the looks of one of them, very fat. As far as first impressions go, they look so thrown together. Like someone went to a fantasy warrior draft and pick out random folks: a Xena, a Genghis Khan, a Robin Hood and his Friar Tuck. Judging by how they relax at their arrival, Tony knew they're probably Thor's pack. He hadn't expected to meet them all at once and so soon.

Apparently neither did Thor as he reins in Toothgrinder and Toothgnasher with a jolt and shouts in surprise, "My friends! You are all here!"

Without waiting for a complete stop, Thor jumps over the chariot and hurries over to greet them. Tony has never seen the big guy more animated.

"I had sent word for each of you to arrive at a specific hour. How haps you come to this?"

Still on the chariot, Tony leans slightly forward and takes the opportunity to observe Thor and his pack. The round one is the first to cut through the physical greetings with enough bluster to make Tony grip the chariot as a precaution, "Tis not by design I assure you! Since my summon is at two, I arrive early anticipating the midday meal."

The tall leggy amazon one then comments with a smirk, "Aye, we all know how Volstagg cannot resist Alfheim' s succulent pheasants steep in honey mead."

Her voice, raspy and lyrical, Tony likes. Her tone has more bite than niceties but given how big this Volstagg is, he's an easy target. They all laughed, except the Asian one only snicker with good humor.

She then continues, "Likewise, since my summon is before his, I chose to arrive an hour early."

Next, the shortest of all them (though still taller than Tony), he now deems as the silent one comments, "I am on time."

Last of the round robin, the Errol Flynn lookalike chimes in his two cents, "And of course Thor saved the best for last. I took the liberty of arriving early as well to make myself comfortable. Tis a shame all the available sorts have been evacuated. So as you can see, we are all thrown together by happenstance."

Tony perks up at the sentence spoken beforehand. Is that what happen at Stone Cliff too? Though he didn't have long to think on it.

"I can certainly understand why you summon us. Thor, you lucky fiend! Will you be introducing us to your Betroth?"

That draws all eyes upon him. Probably just remembering his manners, Thor flashes him a smile full of chagrin and quickly returns to Tony's side. This time, Tony moves to the opening and extends a hand out instead of having the big guy pick him up by the waist. Thor literally beams with approval, which is odd, Tony considers touching his waist much more intimate than his hand.

Thor's own hand is warm, callous, and surprisingly gentle. It also engulfs his palm entirely. Tony tries not to over think that as he jumps down and promptly sways on his feet, just shy of leaning against Thor's armored chest. Mm, the big guy smells nice, like sunshine, ozone, and leather. If Tony could bottle that musk, he could probably make another cool million. Although, having other people smelling like his Betroth probably not such a good idea.

Murmuring his thanks, Tony takes a moment to pull away and face the others who in the interim averted their gaze, appearing occupied or other. He huffs at their unnecessary discretion and waits for Thor to do his thing.

"Prince Anthony Stark of Midgard, I present to you Lady Sif and the Warriors Three: Hogun the Grim, Volstagg the Voluminous, and Fandral the Dashing."

All self-titled, probably. Perhaps he should consider giving himself a title too.

Having been called out in a line up, they each took their respective bow.

Tony returns the gesture but decides to add a little Earth flavor to the meet and greet too. So he says, "Hello!"

And throw in a wave for good measure to which funnily enough, they do wave back. Meeting and making nice with other packs has never been his strong suit since Tony's pretty much been a loner before Steve came along, so silence ensues.

They're all staring at him, in one degree or another. Lady Sif is measuring, as if her supermodel good looks and athletic body is something Tony can't compete with, except there is no competition. Hogun is neutral but observant. Volstagg is shaking his head as he eyes Tony's height and trim waist. He should feel insulted but that bit with the waist, Tony wouldn't touch that subject with a ten-foot pole. And Fandral, well he's eyeing Tony all right.

Thor's response is immediate in placing his palm on the small of Tony's back and rumbles in warning, causing a shudder to run down Tony's spine in response. He's been around his fair share of Alphas, but never felt anything like this before. For some strange reason he has this overwhelming urge to bare his neck. It is all over and done within a matter of seconds and the urge disappears. After shaking his head to clear it, Tony caught the other pack mates giving censuring looks at Fandral's lopsided grin. Tony gets it; the guy didn't get to be called Fandral the Dashing without reason.

Caught off guard in more ways than one, Tony finds himself swept along the path as Thor heads toward the castle and declares, "Let us resign to the dining hall. My friends can regale us with their adventures since my absence."

* * *

Several hours later, Tony finds his patience worn thin. He loves a good party, especially the ones he hosts. This though? Sitting around the dinner table for hours retelling stories after stories, each more embellish than the last, all the while wining and dining away, being loud and noisome, not so much. If this is what they consider a good time, Tony hopes there are more options.

The midday meal had turn into dinner. Thor's pack mates had finish updating the Crown Prince long ago and move on to reminiscing some old adventure or other. Tony wishes he can leave so easily like all the elves around them, but the pack somehow boxed him in, always making a point to pause and get his reaction before continuing. However, once in a while, they'll begrudgingly slip up and mention something Prince Loki did (which is scoffed at most times) even though to Tony sounded quite ingenious.

Which brings to mind, why hasn't Thor introduce his brother to Tony yet? From what has been mention of that guy so far, it sounds like the mysterious second prince is reachable but busy doing something. After tonight, Tony can understand why. If smarts don't win points with this pack, he'd probably make himself scarce too. Obviously Thor is in for a letdown when Tony points out he's more a scholar than a warrior.  
After the umpteenth yawn (Tony's been making it really obvious by now), his efforts finally pays off, though not in the way he intended. Fandral has been keeping his distance though his gaze is never far, well whenever Thor isn't looking and comments with a leer, "Thor, you horrible man! Anthony looks dead on his feet. I would say you should get him off to bed."

Yeah, no innuendo there. And apparently, Tony has been officially accepted into the pack so he's now just Anthony sans the title for them too. On his end, he's not comfortable enough to ask them to call him Tony just yet. That comment though, gets a myriad of responses from the table. Volstagg and surprisingly King Frey share a laugh, Hogun is Switzerland, Lady Sif is hiding her disgust not too well with a grimace, and Queen Frigga shakes her head in disapproval. While Thor, he—he looks contemplative.

That makes Tony jump quicker on his feet then anything. No time for diversions or witty comebacks. He had thought courting meant taking their sweet time, not put out on the second date. Not that he's a prude; it's just as an Omega without undergoing heat ever, getting it up is harder than people think. Also while Thor, with his rough edges is nice and respectful at times, Tony isn't attracted to him just yet.  
So he fakes a laugh before addressing King Frey, "I should like to retire early if you don't mind, your highness?"

King Frey's lips curve in a knowing manner and nods his consent before teasing him further, "Thor, kindly escort your Betroth to his quarters."

Tony immediately flushes with mortification and makes to vacate the dining hall with as much dignity as he can muster. The following catcalls didn't help. He's twenty steps away from the exit when Thor finally catches up to him. Thankfully, the big guy refrains from commenting anything even though there is a perpetual smirk on his lips. They walk side by side in companionable silence until they reach his room. Not wanting to make it even more awkward with what is left unsaid since the dining hall, Tony makes to push his doors open and says goodnight. However Thor has other plans apparently. The big guy grabs his wrist to stop him then changes his grasp to tug on Tony's hand, signaling him to turn around. Both of their palms are damp with sweat.

Gulping with mostly anxiety and a bit of anticipation, Tony relents and raises his eyes to meet Thor's amuse ones.

"You are a strange one, Anthony Stark of Midgard."

Okay, not quite the words one would say before they go for the good night kiss. Tony finds his nerve receding so decides to wade it out for the rest of it.

"You are as bold and charming as anyone I have ever met. My mother is already fond of you, my uncle and my pack mates have accepted you… yet I find you a mystery still."

Tony smirks at that comment.

"Their earlier teasing, tis all in good cheer, there has not been a royal betrothal since my father's own. From what I have observe from their match, tis my hope that we shall take all the time we need to build trust and one day learn to love each other."

That little speech is rather elegant considering the whole Viking persona present in all his glory. They are essentially alone in a well-lit hallway and Thor is behaving better than most Alphas. Amaze by that revelation, Tony finds himself nodding in agreement and Thor beams with approval.

"We have made progress this day and will proceed no further lest without your approval."

To prove his point, the big guy slowly raises Tony's hand to his lip level and waits. Shaking his head at Thor's theatrics, Tony rolls his eyes and nods his consent. The kiss on his knuckles is soft and brief.

"I bid you a good night, Anthony."

Thor had barely walked around a corner when Tanna opens the doors of his quarters from the inside and Tony promptly staunches the shriek that threatens to burst forth. Nothing prevented the expletives fortunately.

"Jumping fucking gigawatts! Are you trying to cause a heart attack? How did you get here before me anyways?"

He places a hand to his chest as if trying to stop it from actually popping out.

"My apologies, Prince Anthony. Tis part of my duties to escort you in the absence of any Royal family members. I thought it wise to give you a moment to recover from your ki—well there you have it."

Luckily, she read his face pretty well not to continue in that vein of speech. Speaking of which, Tony signals her to move aside and he crosses the room to sit on the chaise as if he's holding court. Knowing her to be a smart girl (although she's probably older than is great-great-great grandmother), Tanna promptly closes the door and moves to stand a few steps before the chaise, her arms relax besides her, waiting for Tony to begin.

"I know it's only been three days and we barely know each other, but since you're assigned to me, I want to set up some ground rules."

He pauses to gauge her response, so far so good. So Tony raise a hand up and start illustrating the point across by counting with his fingers with each item.

"One, I'm cool about a lot of things, but some things I want to be kept strictly confidential unless I say otherwise. I'll let you know as it happens. So something like the Prince coming to ask you things about me is cool and all, but not always. You with me so far?"

He manages to get a frown on her face.

"To be clear, I only disclose your wish to see the forge because Prince Thor seeks guidance and knowledge regarding your preferences. If you are not… cool with this, please let me know? I shall remain silent on the subject."

Tanna had said the word 'cool' like it's a foreign concept. It probably is.

Tony consider her question after the day he had and says, "At first I didn't like the fact that you talk about me at all, but that is probably too much to ask for since you don't technically work for me. So to answer your question, if it is about my preferences, then the answer is yes, you have my permission to disclose it."

When her demeanor goes back to neutral, Tony continues, "Okay, that tie in perfectly with number two: the unmentionables. Things like my body, my habits, my hygiene, and my personal effects; things that make me cry, make me angry, so especially things that are personal are off limits and not negotiable. We clear?"

Her nod is quick and decisive. So Tony completes his countdown, "Lastly, number three. I want this arrangement to be more like you are my personal assistant, not my valet or my official escort. Deal?"

She actually looks curious now, a first for Tony to witness.

"What duties does a… personal assistant entail?"

Instead of explaining, he shot back with, "What are your duties now?"

"I see to your needs and escort you when I am needed."

It's Tony's turn to frown, "Wait, on-call like 24/7? What did you do before I came here?"

She frowns at first then answers him with more warmth then he heard at any other time, "I study my lessons, maintain the royal library and attend Queen Frigga when she visits."

"Wow. That sounds hell of a lot better than following me around and catering to my needs. Okay, so as a personal assistant, you only see to my needs when I ask you to. You also keep track of my schedule, like things I got to do and people I got to see. We can keep the escort part since I don't know my way around yet. When I got nothing going on though, you'll be off the clock and go spend it however you like. Deal?"

For a long moment, Tanna mulls over his words before she nods and says, "You wish for minimum supervision and personal space, am I correct to assume?"

Tony couldn't help the broad smile that plaster on his face. "Smart girl, got it in one."

"Very well, Prince Anthony. However, I must amend one of the items. I have been mandated to never leave you unescorted, as you would say, not negotiable."

Bristling with irritation, Tony gets up from the chaise and faces Tanna as close to eye level as he can manage without standing atop something.

"Okay, now I have a problem with that. Why can't I run around by myself? On Midgard, I have no such restrictions and can perfectly take care of myself, thank you very much."

In spite of his rising ire, Tanna remains calm and collective when she explains, "Tis for your safety, your highness."

That sounds rather rehearsed. Exasperated, Tony tries a different angle, "Alfheim is a peaceful realm, is that not what King Frey said?"

Her eyes narrows shrewdly before replying, "Aye, but peace comes at a cost. Precautions are made and rules must be followed."

She would make a good lawyer. Unfortunately for her, so would Tony.

"I heard on good authority that all unattached personnel have been asked to leave the castle manor, am I right?"

Tanna has a good poker face, but Tony press onward, "That's what the precaution is about, right? You worry that I'll get accosted or something before Thor and I bonded?"

After seeing her lips thin with confirmation, Tony then cajoles, "Look, I have been approach by unsavory Alphas before and have no problem correcting their notion that I am a bitch in heat. You should see this guy who caught me in the john once, I—"

"Prince Anthony, the customs on Alfheim, Asgard, and the other realms are much different than Midgard. You must heed these precautions; tis there for your protection."

"Now see here, I can't say I know your customs that well since your Ambassador Larien refuse to give us a manifesto on inter-realm do's and don'ts. So why don't you loan me a manual and we can both be on the same page."

The paleness of her skin blossoms into the color of a ripe tomato. Wow. If only Tony can take a picture. Dumb Proclamation and their damn rules. It took several moments before Tanna finds her voice, it comes out shaky. "…These are delicate topics. I… I am not the right person to speak of this—"

"Bullcrap! You are bonded right, so why can't you—"

He didn't think her face can get any redder. Apparently Tanna's composure is completely gone now when she yells, actually yells back, "I am not!"

That seems to cut Tony up short. Steve always did say he shouldn't jump to conclusions. In this case, he should heed those words. Derailed for the moment, he sat down heavily back on the chaise and pats the seat next to him. That seems to help her coloring to lighten up when she chose to whisper to the room in general.

"You misunderstood your good authority. All of those who have reached the rite of passage were asked to vacate the castle until the courting period has been observed and the Royal party leaves for Asgard."

Tony whispers back while he tries not to look at her, "Oh. So you're… actually really young for your… species?"

"Aye, I have a hundred years to go."

"Oh. A hundred more years of puberty must suck."

"Nay, our rite of passage is different than Midgardians' puberty."

Confused, Tony turns to look at her and promptly remembers her embarrassment. He turns his head in the opposite direction instead.

"Tanna, I don't want to be ignorant of your customs, so if you don't mind explaining?"

That seems to help too as he heard her take a deep breath and begin in a soft lecture voice, "I speak in general for the representation of the other realms. Midgard has three distinct classifications. If I am not mistaken, your distinction can be determine since birth, however for the other realms, it is not so. Ours is unknown until the… gathering and the rite of passage is… performed. Even then, most would straddle the identity of having more than one distinction."

Tony's read a study about this once. The rare few who are born with both traces of Alpha and Beta allele, the test group had the capability to choose one over the other as time pass and adjust accordingly.

"Do they pick one?"

"Aye, depending on the need of the pack, some Betas would become dominant Alphas and the reverse is also true."

He takes a moment to organize his thoughts enough to venture more questions now that Tanna is open to answering them. He has been pondering these for a long time.

"Is inter-realm breeding really compatible?"

"Aye, Queen Frigga is Vanir and Odin All-father is part Jotun and Asgardian."

"Can Betas get pregnant?"

"Nay. Tis the same as Midgard, only Omegas of either sex can do so, although an Alpha-Beta male can impregnate an Alpha female. Tis rare though, most Alpha female do not like taking the role of bearing the young."

"There are some studies on Midgard that has been debated a lot. Does the scent thing work differently too?"

For some reason, this question sends Tanna on to her feet and start pacing. Her face is that dark shade of color again. After three rounds across the floor, she manages to settle back down and finds her voice again. This time though, she sounds angry more than embarrass.

"Tis true then? In my studies, there are theories stating in the evolution of your species, the Norns has chosen to eliminate the sense of smell as a factor in choosing your bond mate."

It is Tony's turn to put on his lecture cap, "Well, that is a good theory. Our own studies hypothesize that since mankind started masking their scents during our hunter and gatherer days that the nose just became useless. These days, with perfumes, colognes, scented hygiene products, and not to mention the heavy pollution in most parts of the world, it makes sense not to trust the nose even further. Not all humans believe that though. Throughout our history there have been many testimonials that claim they found their bond mates via their scent. There's a movement trying to push for cleaner air and unscented products, even going au naturale like you guys do here."

"That is good news. Perhaps the damage can be reverse. I cannot even fathom such a disfigurement; unable to read another's mood, comfort, and attraction; without it we may as well be blind."

Tony sat up straight upon hearing that, "Wait, you can read all that just from a person's scent?"

This time, Tanna turns to him looking scandalized, "The scent is everything! For those who do not master it and learn to control their bodies in response, they become an Úlfhéðnar, a berserker, filled with uncontrollable rage and confusion. Tis the reason we must take precaution, Prince Anthony. Omegas are a rarity outside of Midgard. You are the first Omega the All-father has permitted to be accessible. Your scent must be contained."

"Oh."

That explains so much, yet now Tony has even more questions. But first, he has a point to make.

"Okay, I get it. I'll be cautious, so where's my safety zone?"

She looks taken aback, "Pardon?"

"There must be an invisible border you guys had drawn out for prohibition right? As long as I stay within the safety zone, we're good, yes?"

Realization dawns on her face and Tanna gives him a proper smile of defeat, "Your silver-tongue may be as dangerous as Prince Loki's. We are in accord. In the morrow, I shall bring you a map of the area. In the interim, until Lady Sif and the Warriors Three leaves the premise I shall continue to be your escort, your highness. Prince Thor is breaking tradition somewhat in presenting his pack mates so soon, especially when most of them are unattached Alpha-Betas, although you are quite safe with Volstagg, he is married. So you are not out of the woods just yet."

Tony sits there beaming with satisfaction in having won the argument. Now he can go back to his questions.

"Tanna, can you tell me more on how this scent thing works?"

When she gets up again, Tony kind of knew their information gathering session is about to end.

"I have surpassed my own sensibilities by far in discussing this subject. Please, I beg of you, do not ask more of me."

It is Tony's turn to sigh in defeat, but it wouldn't be him if he didn't try a different tactic.

"I understand, but can you at least give me a book to read about it or point me to someone who can give me answers?"

She seem to be more free with her smiles now, which makes Tony's goal to get through to her a success in his book.

"Aye, I can do better. I know just the book. In the morrow, I shall bring you the translation along with that map. In regards to whom, I have three recommendations: Queen Frigga, Astrid the Wise, and Prince Loki. Of the three, you will have better luck finding Queen Frigga. Anything else I may help you with prior to my saying good night and leave you to your ablutions?"

As much as he wants to cajole more out of her, Tony respects her limit, "No, that's all. Thank you, Tanna."

* * *

It is late.

The bustling noise from the castle by day differs dramatically by night. The crashing waves from the not so distant ocean sooths his thoughts by its familiarity. Out in the balcony, with the curtains half drawn to illuminate his room with the alien glow of Alfheim's two moons, Tony stood leaning against the balustrade, contemplating the past three days and what he's learn so far. The first night, Tony felt homesick as the newness and foreign nature of everything taking its toll emotionally. The second night, he felt pretty numb and hopeless about the betrothal working out given how barbaric Thor was. Now that it's the third day, Thor seems promising.

As much as things change for the better in his life ever since Steve happened, Tony finds himself back on square one. He's back in that gilded cage, only now it is a prince as his Alpha setting boundaries with foreign customs and alien biology. Thor is a Viking contradiction though, a gentle giant with his unhurried approach to courting and his uncanny ability to impress people without trying.

Except for Mortan. Tony smiles in remembering the old cat-elf. Of the few people he's met so far, the Master Sword-smith is the only person he hopes to see more of. His suggestion of using the horse-smith's forge certainly sounds promising too. The way Thor has said about taking their time courting, maybe Tony can convert it into his temporary lab for now. Tony has to make do before and was able to create and build works of art with such restraints. He can do so here. There is so much to learn, alien technology to absorb, and realms of possibilities for him to explore.

Settle with his plans for the future, Tony finally felt brave enough to open up his past. The black nylon duffle bag he packed days ago looks out of place next to the wooden trunk. He'd only retrieve his toiletry kit from a side pocket so far. Since he's been provided everything, it seems pointless now to even pack anything. But it isn't pointless, one day he would be permitted to see his pack mates again and Tony will need the constant reminder for going through with this until then.

With purposeful steps, he pads barefoot to retrieve the bag and place it on the foot of the nest. Tony drew himself up and sat cross-leg before it. Unhurried, he zips open the u-shape cover and peels it back. Thanks to Steve, half of the bag is stacked with Tony's favorite clothes, a mixture of old band t-shirts, wife beaters, sweats, and designer jeans. His white socks are rolled up and neatly tucked away next to his briefs. Oddly enough, he's been going commando with the leather pants and felt no discomfort at all.

On the other half of the bag, neatly packaged in various patterns and colors of wrapping paper were the going away presents he received from his close friends and pack mates. There wasn't a party, but Steve had sent a memo out to everyone making sure every item didn't violate the Proclamation agreement, so Tony didn't have to part from any of them. At the time, he joked about being a billionaire who can buy whatever they gave him but there were tears in his eyes when he said it.

Thinking he might as well start from top, Tony picks up small cube package with colored polka dots. He recognizes Clint's scrawl anywhere and carefully opens it. The blaring black Apple logo atop a white plastic container affronts his senses.

"You got to be kidding me! Come on, what happen to company loyalty?"

He opens the container anyways and sees a red shiny touch screen shuffle sitting in the cradle. Plucking it out, Tony turns it on and the device comes to life. Strangely interesting proof of time dilation, the device date and time says it's only been a day and a few hours since he left. It is certainly something to explore later. Out of curiosity, Tony starts scrolling down the music tab and breaks into a chortle, a playlist with all his friends', pack mates' as titles greets him. No surprise, Steve's list has jazz and swing music with a lot of Sinatra, Crosby and even Bublé. Bruce's taste is more eclectic, new age meditative music from around the world. Clint and his lewd rap music, huh, and unexpectedly country music. Then there's Pepper and her classics of course. Thank goodness for Rhodey, classic rock needs a representative. Even his driver, Happy and Widow added theirs. Tony dials it back to Rhodey's and plucks the headphones out of the cradle to plug it in the jack. After fitting the earbuds in place, the sweet anthem of youth fills the silence of the night and Tony sighs in satisfaction.

Bopping his head to the music, Tony picks up the next package that is a flat rectangular box, a little heavy and wrap in black with no name on it. He can guess that one and carefully opens it. It's a five piece set of black steel throwing knives with casing.

Okay. Quickly placing that aside on the bedding, Tony picks up another package and reads the little note: _'Can't believe they get you a shuffle without a charging station. Dumb shit, man. Don't do anything stupid! –Rhodey'_

He could guess already but smiles anyways to see a USB solar charger. Tony places that aside and moves the next one mark Bruce. A bark of laughter fills the room when he discovers it's a CSI kit complete with an abundance of test tubes, vials and plastic bags. Setting that aside too, Tony opens the next item mark Pepper. The large package has a note on it too: _'Don't stop imagining. Come back when you need more. – Pepper'_

After opening it, Tony chuckles at the contents: a box of 100 count yellow number two pencils with sharpener sits atop two stacks of 500 sheets engineering paper. Placing that aside, Tony places his hand back in the bag and comes up empty, so he fishes around and finds nothing. He then peers inside and only saw his clothes. Huh, nothing from Steve. Well, technically he has his uncle's playlist, but still. There should have been something.

Not wanting to feel ungrateful, he gets up and takes a deep breath to clear the threat of tears. Deciding to put his things away inside the large trunk, Tony begins with grabbing the stack of clothes with one hand. Something hard slip out from in-between, not even thinking about it, Tony caught it before it fell on the floor. His eyes begin to blur as large droplets of tears plop onto the small picture frame of Steve and the whole gang. Best present ever.


	8. Dog Days in Alfheim, Part III

The flapping of fabric is his only warning before the blaring rays of the morning sun hits him square in the face. It is Steve's favorite way of waking Tony up no matter how late or rather how long he spent in his lab on a science binge. Later when Tony hired Pepper as his personal assistant, she adopts the method enthusiastically to his annoyance. So it is with little wonder Tony feels the rude awakening as both familiar and out of place. He is half expecting JARVIS to comment on the weather and report on the NYSE.

What he gets, is Tanna reciting his schedule like an old pro while hearing her flit about his room picking up the mess he made of the empty boxes and torn wrapping papers.

"Good morrow, Prince Anthony. Prince Thor wishes for your attendance at the East wall training field after you break your fast. There, Hogun the Grim shall test your mettle until the midday supper. Afterwards, you are free to do as you wish unless of course, you wish to join Prince Thor and the Warriors Three to the Red Cockerel once more?"

Pulling his head out from the pillow he'd burrow under, Tony valiantly opens one eye to locate the ever mobile elf. Oddly enough, Tanna has her head bury inside the trunk.

"Huh?"

Okay, maybe not his most elegant, but Tony didn't remember ordering an itinerary last night. After three nights of not being able to sleep (being knock-out drunk the second day didn't count), he was finally able to sleep like a baby listening to Rachmaninoff's piano concerto no.2. Imagine that, if he knew Pepper's choice in music did the trick so easily Tony would have employ that method years ago, although more sleeping means less time for science so maybe not.

Bleary-eyed, he sat up slowly and rubs the sleep from his eyes. Feeling something choking him, Tony clumsily unwrap the cords from the headphones tangle around his neck and shoulders, before tucking the music player and all beneath his pillow. When he refocuses his attention again, the room is neat and tidy, like magic, or Tanna's as fast as Steve in a marathon. Tony doesn't believe in that hocus pocus reference from the Norse myths or any other ancient stories. He always maintained that magic is just advance science people couldn't explain yet. Or base on his observations so far, enhance beings with equally enhance animals, eliminating the need for innovation. These Asgardians, Elves, Dwarves, Krees, and who knows what else are just genetically built hardier than humans. Their evolution started earlier in the scheme of things, however given the account of mutants and science induce changes on the rise over the past century, Tony can safely say humanity is catching up. Not all embrace the changes naturally, but that morbid topic is not something he wants to tackle first thing in the morning.

Last night, he'd stash most of the presents along with the samples Mortan gave him in the trunk except for the small picture frame. That, he place on the vanity. Tanna didn't seem curious by any of the additions she found when she retrieves a set of clothes for him to wear. A black leather ensemble with what looks like a grey long sleeve thermal.

"Prince Anthony, last evening you specify as part of my duties is to keep track of your schedule, I have done just so," remarks Tanna while she place the outline of clothes at the foot of the nest. Per usual, it's her not so subtle way of showing Tony how it should be worn without actually saying so.

Scratching the back of his head as is his habit, Tony comments playfully in return, "Yeah, but I don't recall getting the memo—er message on that schedule. Do I even have a say? Like not go? Or like, hm, I prefer that without the jacket and just the low slinging belt will do just fine? Also, what does testing my mettle even mean? And why the hell would I want to go back to the Red Cock? I'm pretty sure now that's not included as part of the boundary you guys drawn up."

Frowning at his words, Tanna purses her lips as if she's debating something internally or just trying not to laugh. Kudos to her professionalism, she manages a straight face after all.

"Tis customary for the Alpha to woo his Betroth by demonstrating his ability to provide care and protection. Tis also customary for the Alpha's pack to aide him in his courtship by demonstrating their abilities to the Betroth as well."

A slow smile draws on Tony's lips when he realizes what is different about her today and he teases accordingly. Tony leans forward and braces his elbow atop his knees so that he can prop his chin on the palm of his hand.

"My, how forthcoming with info you are today. I kind of miss the old Tanna and her rosy cheeks."

Her eyes turn beady for a second before she tilts her head up as her spine stiffens.

"I know not what you mean, your grace. I am merely regurgitating the text I translated for your perusal."

Tony snorts at her deflection, "I'm sure you are, but you're not acting all missish on me. What's changed?"

At that, the colors on her cheeks blossom and Tony feels perversely justified that he isn't the only one to do so around here.

"Tis nothing to fuss over. Now, would your highness kindly rise from the beddings so that we may begin the day? You may wear your outfit however you please. I merely suggest you take care to dress for the occasion. Hogun the Grim is not known for his leniency."

Not minding to be dismissed for a change of subject, Tony promptly slid out of the nest and does a few back cracking stretches before he asks offhandedly, "So… when you say Hogun is going to test my mettle and add the bit about pack mates demonstrating and stuff… I'm guessing he's going to run me through a gauntlet of some such?"

Tanna stops fixing his bedding set in favor of frowning again, "Your word choice is most colorful. You do not use the word by definition but rather in substitution or another hidden meaning entirely, such as your usage of the word 'cool'. I find it perplexing to decipher."

Despite dressing in only a thin layer of dressing gown probably been outdated since circa nineteenth century, Tony didn't feel uncomfortable at all when he turns to face her directly. One of the few good things about not going through heat yet is that he doesn't have to suffer through embarrassing morning wood for long. Sadly that is the only time Tony's been able to get an erection.

"On Midgard, we have hundreds of languages that are spoken. New words get added to the popular lexicon all the time, including slangs, which are words that are used indirectly from its original meaning."

With a bit of finality, Tanna nods to herself most like, and resumes her work, "Then I shall keep a list of Midgardian words and slangs as you use it, Prince Anthony. So 'cool' means good and 'run through a gauntlet' means?"

It's his turn to rummage through the trunk to look for his toiletry bag and his bracelet when he replies, "It means obstacle course, a test of sorts. Is that what Hogun is really planning?"

"Ah! Aye, tis precisely what is planned for the next couple of days."

This stops Tony up short. Grabbing the stuff he needs, he straightens back up to say, "So Thor plans to court me via his pack mates? That is what I have to look forward to? Not dinner and a movie, but bruises and sweat? Man that blows."

They now swap places, Tanna with her back facing him is placing the clothe items he objected to away, while Tony is at the foot of the nest disrobing.

"Albeit, I can guess what 'that blows' mean, what is a 'movie'?"

His voice comes out muffle as he just pulls the dressing gown over his head, "It's a moving picture that Midgardians created to tell a story, it has sound and everything."

After Tony manage to slip the leather pants on, Tanna stands before him, with her eyes downcast, she hands over the thermal shirt and a crop vest, despite his objection to the jacket. After putting on the shirt, his lips twist into a moue when she meets his eyes.

"Do not pout so, my lord. You must wear something to protect your torso. Alas, I would like to see this 'movie'. It sounds diverting. Do Midgardians' woo by entertainment?"

"Yeah, that's the trend for most human cultures. It's one of the ways to find out each other's interest before things get too serious. We call it dating on Midgard," comments Tony while he's busy lacing up the vest and slips on a pair of mid-calf black boots that Tanna immediately helps adjust the buckles for a better fit.

Standing before the vanity like all the other times, Tony stares for a bit in every which way. The past days of long tunics, blousy shirts and weighty jackets and vests were too much. The thermal shirt is just long enough to reach pass the seam of his waistband by an inch or two, thereby showcasing his butt and provide a peekaboo hint of skin when he moves about. The glow from his arc reactor didn't even penetrate through the fabric, although the circular outline still shows. Like the previous leather pants, it is comfortable and formfitting, but instead of laces, it has a crotch flap with a side buckle that looks complementary with the low slinging belt and the pair of leather vambrace. In spite of his earlier distaste, the crop vest is the perfect fit for the ensemble. Not only did it hide the outline of the arc reactor, it doesn't make him look bulky at the chest, but actually frames his pecks and accentuates the length of his lower torso. Tony likes. A lot.

"I like it. Can I have a few more with variations? Like a short sleeve or crop shirt version? In different colors maybe? What do you think? Tanna? Tanna?"

Tony turns around and caught the look on her face. He couldn't help the evil chuckle even if he tried. Yeah, he still got it.

Sniffing at his ridicule, Tanna primly tilts her chin up and responds with as much dignity as her red cheeks can afford her, "Certainly. In reminder, the transcript for the translations and the map you have requested are place on the table yonder. Is there anything your highness should like my help with?"

Knowing he'd probably worn out the number of blushes he can raise from her, Tony relents and brings back a semblance of princely decorum he's been taught with.

"Ahem. Ah, thanks. I'll take a look at them later and yes, there is something else. Can you check whether I can convert the horse smith's forge for my own personal use? And don't take no for an answer. After lunch, I would like you to show me where the place is and help me tidy it up."

"I believe there should be no objections. The horse smith and his apprentice are in part those who were asked to vacate the castle manor. No one else should be using it during the interim. I shall escort you then, Prince Anthony."

* * *

Breakfast is overrated.

It only took a few elves openly gawking at him that Tony sends Tanna to pack a to-go box and hightail out of the dining hall. Sure, he gets the whole being a novelty bit. Tony enjoys being the center attention most times, that isn't his problem. What he didn't care for is being treated like a circus animal expected to perform tricks or some sort when none of the royals are around.

So here he is, eating on the go with a sandwich he mash together from a large piece of toast, crumble cheese and a slab of meat that tastes like smoke ham as he nears the training grounds.

Dusting off some crumbs, Tony stood at the top of the hill looking down at the field, however calling it that would be an understatement. It is more like a semi-circle gladiator arena sunken into the ground, complete with leveled tiers of spectator seats. An array of weapons adorns the flat of the East wall.

He'd seen video footage of the dignitaries presenting their warriors to conduct their ceremonial mock fight before. The elves were fast and elegant, the dwarves were forceful and brutal, while the Krees are similar to the officers from Nova Corps, using efficient moves in combination of handheld weapons and military take down tactics.

This is the first time Tony sees the Asgardians' fight. Even from afar, Thor's pack mates are grunting and hacking at each other on full swing. Tony gets where the Viking bit fits in. They are holding nothing back as the clash of their chosen weapons sparks at each block and collision. While the big guy himself is leaning against the arena wall talking animatedly with an almost as tall humanoid, though minus the bulk, dress in greenish black leather trench coat. Tony briefly caught the back of the person when Tanna for some odd reason moves to stand in front of him, blocking his view.

"Hey, what's the big idea?"

Tony moves around her and the tall, dark stranger is gone. Scanning the area out of curiosity, the person is nowhere to be found, while the group acts like no one's there to begin with. Huh, he couldn't be seeing things.

"Anthony! I am pleased that you are to join us!"

This is one place where Thor's booming voice lends itself to good use in stating the obvious, but it isn't like Tony has a choice at this point. The courting ball is in Thor's arena and yes he's mixing metaphors. Deal.

Taking each tier down like stairs, Tony eventually makes his way towards Thor who has move to meet him at his end of the arena while his pack mates converge as well. Knowing the drill by now, Tony raises a hand for his Betroth to take and the big guy kisses his knuckles again before helping him down. It is then when Fandral is already flanking his other side, uses that excuse and place both hands on his waist.

Tony has never seen anyone move so fast, perhaps Steve maybe. All he sees is the end pose, Thor's other fist extended and Fandral landing flat on his back at a fifth row, out cold.

Volstagg's belly laugh is instantly join by the others and if Tony heard a disembodied deep chuckle nearby, no one seem to mind.

Forgoing the mystery for now, Tony does what he does best and offers a one liner, "I guess it's time for his nap?"

* * *

Tanna wasn't kidding when Tony returns back to his room five nights in a row completely exhausted with barely enough strength to do anything else except recover. If it weren't for her weird bittersweet concoction she gave him every night, his muscles would have suffered from fatigue on the first day of exams. And it is all one big test in a weird pack mate hazing type of way. They each took a round with him, even Thor.

Day one, Hogun checks his long-range skills. It is a good thing Clint taught Tony a thing or two about using a bow and throwing odd objects. That day is all about breathing and finding the right balance of the weapon, and if Tony mentally uses the laws of aerodynamics in conjunction with trajectory physics to hit his target, no one would know it was less about skills.

Day two, Lady Sif takes all her silent rage and aims to knock him down with her staff every single time. Every time she succeeded her laughter rings over his head like an irksome wind chime. It is nice to hear for the first time, but gets old quickly. So when she actually breaks his staff neatly in two, Tony quickly turns it to his advantage. He didn't train with staffs necessarily, but escrima-fighting sticks are a different story. Finally handing her ass to the floor, Tony didn't lord it over her and kindly offers a hand to help her up. After that she seemed to tone down her aim, which of course he's more than grateful to eat less arena dirt.

Day three was weird. It was a one-sided wrestling match if one can even call it that. Volstagg challenge Tony that if he can knock him down with whatever weapon he chooses, he wins. What should have been a simple task turns out not so simple at all. As big and round the guy is, Volstagg didn't lack in speed at all, on the contrary, Tony finds himself missing most of the time. And every time he did, the guy didn't hold back on the heckling at all. Pansy. Weak knees. Starving mead worm, whatever that means. And Lady Anthony was his favorite since Sif took offense to that and knocks Volstagg down for him. He won by default.

Day four, Fandral wanted to do hand to hand combat, naked like the old tradition of yore. Suffice to say that didn't go so well with Thor. Nice try though. What they did end up doing is dueling with swords, and their tongues. No, not like that. Fandral's ambidextrous skill with the sword is equally as deadly as his double entendres. Tony couldn't help laughing at the poor guy wanting to cop a feel. In the end, Thor allows Fandral to shake his hand, after Tony explains is what gentlemen do in Midgard after a fair match.

Then today, at day five, Thor does challenge Tony to hand to hand combat, not naked of course. Knowing how much strength the guy has, Tony knows he's being lenient. Come to think of it, they all were. Even in fighting, Thor's being very careful with him. It is both annoying and embarrassing in a way since it turn more into grappling verses throwing punches and kicks. Thor didn't cop a feel per se, but there is a lot of touching in which Tony eventually collapse on the big guy due to exhaustion. Just like that, the fight ends and Thor is holding him up with both arms around his waist.

Now lying in his nest, Tony drifts to sleep in hopes that the exams are finally over and he can get back to the regular schedule program. Dating shouldn't be this brutal.


	9. On the Prowl

He's trapped.

Esurient eyes glow an eerie white beneath the darken canopy of the thick forest. Quickly as he could, Tony scrambles up another branch of the tree, mindful of the slippery bark from the sudden drizzle. He swings his leg to wrap around it, before hoisting himself up. That had been close. Not far in the distance, the sound of creatures baying is echoed back by the large black wolf circling the trunk down below. Even to his ears, the howl has a note of certainty. No doubt the damn beast is calling for reinforcements since Tony is their next big meal.

Oh why, oh why did he thought it was such a good idea to go out exploring at his first taste of freedom?

* * *

The day had began very much the same.

"Good morrow, Prince Anthony. Prince Thor wishes for your attendance at the East wall training field after you break your fast. There, Fandral shall continue your weapons lesson until the midday meal..."

The day before, it was Hogun in the morning for meditation and Lady Sif for physical training in the afternoon. Thor's pack mates had taken turns often enough. It stands to reason, Tony hadn't thought when he hoped for a regular schedule, that he would be attending Asgard Academy, at least that's what the subsequent four days had felt like. Apparently the initial tests wasn't just their idea of hazing fun, the pack had genuinely assessed his skill sets and deemed him acceptable of being a mate to a warrior Prince and pack leader. He still wonders whether he should be flattered since they're not starting him on basic training at least. Tony can't say he's a half empty or half full kind of guy, especially when he can engineer something to ensure the cup is always full or empty.

"...tis a surprise he mentioned. Thus I recommend a change of clothes prior-"

"Wait, hold up. What?" That had caught Tony's attention quick as he sat up in bed.

Tanna had pause in the middle of placing two outfits for Tony to wear. One was his go-to gear of thermal-vest combo in shades of brown this time and the other was the formal red tunic he wore the first day. Was he attending something special tonight? She looked up and snorted at his bewildered expression.

"Tis rude, your highness, when I am accounting your schedule and you ignore the content entirely."

The tall and equally annoying Pepper 2.0 was too snippy for his liking. Maybe he shouldn't have encouraged her to warm up to him, oh who was he kidding, that was part of the fun. So Tony sassed back, "A little brevity goes a long way, sunshine. Don't bore me with the usual when you have something to highlight-"

"Highlight?"

"It means to put emphasis on a topic," replied Tony to her frequent lingo interjections without complaint before he continued, "So to highlight over that last bit, what surprise are you talking about?"

Tanna nodded like she's writing on a mental list (she probably was), then sigh as if she's put upon before repeating what Tony missed earlier, "I heard from the cook that Prince Thor made a request to dine in his quarters and have it set for two."

"At this point of the retelling Tony's already risen and had retrieved his toiletry bag when he paused at the threshold of the en suite bathroom, "...and you guess it's meant for me?"

"Tis not a guess. Prince Thor has requested specifically the honey roasted boar with melted goat cheese, fresh tomatoes, buttered onions, and raw leafy greens in between a toasted bread you so like."

Tony made to close the door at this point and leaned heavily against it. He'd read the translations by now. It was nothing more than a blue book of permitted conventions between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas. There been a few smattering of paragraphs mentioning the use of scent, but it was all written in such a flowery way that made him more than frustrated, especially when he asked Tanna to elaborate. Her only response was that the use of scent was instinctual and overwhelming at times. Hence the fact it was not written down, much like breathing air. What Tony wanted was a biological approach to the subject and he said as much. This had Tanna mutter something in Elfish and probably not nice. her final reply on the matter was this: using one's scent is not an illness, only the loss of it is researched and cataloged in the book of illnesses for the healers to diagnose, before suggesting perhaps Tony should get treated. Like he said, she's too snippy these days.

Regardless of the translations not being what he wanted, Tony did found the etiquette content helpful to mitigate Thor's approach to courting. According to their customs, there's a grace period in which the eligible Alpha should subject the unmated Omega to their scent as much as possible. If the Omega rejected the Alpha during this period, the betrothal is made null and all arrangements must be dissolved. If the Omega accepted the Alpha (this is where it got flowery), the scent claim will be embraced and the occasion be marked. Tony was pretty sure the text meant an engagement most likely since the next couple of paragraphs shifted to the topic of ceremonies wherein all weddings occurred on the day of Beltane. Either weddings are rare or too many to count or the priestess too lazy to book so most couples had to be wed en mass. And if Beltane here is the same as it is on Earth, then May Day will be his wedding day. Given that he arrived on March fifteenth, Tony don't have long to prepare. Fuck.

So today Thor had expected an official acceptance, which would lead to a formal engagement, which would lead to an actual ceremony, which would lead to a freakin' wedding night, which would lead to a fucking annulment the next day due to the Omega not being able to get it up. Or Thor won't care either way and take him sans heat. Tony knows for a fact that some parts of the world back on Earth that was entirely acceptable. Heck, he's had plenty of gold-digging Alphas attempt to force a bonding with him in the past, it hadn't end well for all of them, not because of the law let's just say. He can't treat Thor that way though.

When Tony accepted to do his duty for Earth, things had obviously been set in motion. Being Thor's mate was a certainty, everything else was simply dotting the I's and crossing the T's to make it official. From the beginning, whether he can perform the deed was never a concern. It was so stupid of him to think his pleasure or his ability to produce an heir would matter, what with his short lifespan and all. After more than a full week of observing the grace period, Tony knows it's time to move to the next phase. Political unions was never about the couple's preference. At least Thor was trying, Tony has given him that. The least he can do was meet the big guy half way.

One good thing about moving forward with the formal engagement was that he would be finally able to see Steve and his pack mates again. Wedding plans must be made and Tony will be the worst possible bridezilla in Asgard history if he doesn't get his way at least in that.

* * *

"Must you ogle my ass when I do this? Thor's standing right there you know."

Tony didn't have to turn his focus from the target one hundred feet away to know that that was exactly what Fandral was doing.

"My hands as promise is kept to myself, hence I am safe from Thor's wrath. As for your question, how else am I to observe your comely form in perfect the proper stance? Alas, I must lament you Midgardians, to lend such foul a description to such a beautiful body part, I prefer another word from Midgard's' many languages, derriere has a much better sound to it, does it not?"

It took Tony a moment to steady his body from laughing outright before he launches the javelin and misses the center by two rings.  
"Again. Try loosening your grip and breath out as you release the weapon."

Tony plucked another javelin from the stall and moved back behind the dirt line drawn on the ground before he continues their conversation.

"An ass is an ass is an ass; some asses are bigger than others and some are just sorry, but an ass by any other name is just as smelly."

Fandral's delighted chuckle may very well rivals Volstaggs's thunderous belly laugh. Thor stopped chatting with the man himself to note their interactions before he ignored them once again. Tony had waited until the laughter died down before he launched another one, he missed by one ring.

"Again. Angle the shaft a tad to the right this time."

As instructed, he'd taken his time and does just so. The javelin arc through the air and hit the target dead center with a thwack. Hah!

Triumphant over his improvement, Tony had turned to face the Robin Hood look-alike and received a nod of appreciation.

"Tis a good beginning. We shall redraw the line at double the distance."

What? Tony had been practicing all morning. It had only been the last dozen that he'd manage to hit the target even. Thank goodness for Tanna who had the presence of mind to make him wear leather gloves or Tony would have bleeding callouses by now. Even with them on, he can feel the burn let alone the muscle soreness.

"Do not look at me so. You have made tremendous improvement, Anthony. We must work to be a well-rounded warrior, tis the Asgardian way."

Never say Tony don't know what he's got or is above using it. he stuck out his lower lip and lowers his eyes to half-mast before he peaks up at Fandral, while slouching his body for the effect to bring the whole picture into play. To stick it to the man further, Tony released a dejected groan and whine, "I'm hungry though, can't we call it a break for now?"

To his credit, Fandral subtly shifted his posture and visibly swallowed a few times before responding, his voice only crack initially, "I...of course...we must feed that hunger. Aye, to go without filling up is a travesty indeed."

Tony would have rolled his eyes if it meant not ruining the effectiveness of his ruse. As was habitual with the other, Fandral move toward Tony but stopped short when Thor approaches. Knowing what's coming up next, Tony pasted on a warm smile and put effort to relax his stance.

"Hi Thor! We're about to break for lunch, want to come with?"

"Thor smiled back in greeting before sending Fandral a nod of his head in dismissal. With the other gone, the Prince gets down to business fast in checking off another box on the tally.

"Anthony, I would like the presence of your company in dining with me in private."

Not like Tony can say no at that point and resigned to his fate, "Sure thing."

* * *

It's done.

They're officially engaged and Thor's immediately gone off planet to run some princely errands or other. Back in his room, Tony had flopped backward on the nest of bedding and felt something soft shift and slid to the floor. He had rolled back up and saw the clothes Tanna had laid out now on the ground. That's right, he never got a chance to change before Thor escorted him directly his room.

The Prince's quarters was huge, twice the size of his own room and decorated with more fur and a large dining table placed out on the balcony overlooking inland for ambience. There were several plates of food fit for half a dozen humans and Tony's plate of hamburgers, just like Tanna had said.

Always with Thor, they began chowing down in companionable silence, even though the hamburger tasted like ashes to Tony. But no, the big guy waited until he was done before popping the question. Oddly, Tony couldn't rub two brain cells together to remember what was said. What he did remember was murmuring yes and then Thor was suddenly in front of him planting a quick kiss on his lips, despite his onion breath and all. for some reason Tony felt was more important than the greasy bearded lips pressed against his. Afterwards, Tony recalls bits and pieces of what Thor had said. Something about being too long in Alfheim...going on a hunt...in Vanaheim was it? Then something something about meeting something something.

Realization had hit him right between the eyes then. Rather of feeling elation in being free of the farce, Tony felt his frustration mounting instead. Thor had been dictating the pace ever since Tony arrived and now that he's done his duty and collected the requisite yes, the big guy runs off with his pack mates because he's gone stir-crazy? Tony had gone stir-crazy ages ago! With all that testing and training going on, he'd hardly had a chance to get his lab space started or explored much. What about his needs and his wants?

Fed up with all the pretenses, Tony had sought for fresh air immediately. So with a belly full of roiling hamburgers, he shed off the foreign garbs out of spite and donned a wife beater, grey sweat pants, a red zip up hoody, and running shoes. Lastly, plugging his headphones in to cut out the world, he dashed out the doors intending for a light run.

* * *

Lo and behold, this happened. Tony knows very well the parallels of his current predicament to a certain fairytale. He didn't stick to the path and allow his curiosity got the better of him when he saw lights in the distant tower that was absent on the map, before stumbling on a big ass wolf that chase him further away from the castle. And the irony that he's wearing a red hood just cinched it. Steve probably would say that is the story of Tony's life. Come to think of it, it probably is.

In another half hour or so, the last vestiges of sunlight will cast his surrounding in utter darkness. Tony doubts even the light from Alfheim' s two moons could penetrate the cloudy climes. To add insult to misery, the drizzle has turn into a steady downpour and along with it his hopes to escape from spending a sleepless night wet and cold up on a gnarled tree branch. The thought sends a shiver down his spine as he valiantly tries to control his shaking nerves and ragged breath.

That damn wolf looks normal enough, Tony hopes these alien species didn't possess some freakish attribute like climbing trees or jumping very high. Close to the heel of that thought, to be on the safe side, Tony decides to climb a few more branches higher. But considering his sore arm muscles, it took all his effort to focus on the task after the initial adrenaline rush had worn out.

So it is with little wonder that Tony almost lost his footing entirely when he slip after sighting a pair of black boots dangling from the branch above him. He may or may not have shriek (most likely it was a rebel yell if he lives to recount it) given the surprising nature of the strange appearance before arms belonging to the owner of those limbs catches him easily and pulls Tony up.

It takes the person equally less effort to manhandle Tony onto straddling the same branch. Taking a moment to catch his breath from the near fall, Tony leans back against the tree trunk. Exhausted momentarily, Tony finally makes a relieve sigh before opening his eyes to look at his fellow tree sitter and his heart nearly skips a beat.

Concern brilliant emerald gems for eyes frame by a pale aristocratic face with high cheekbones, a straight nose, thin lips and chin length, raven tresses stares back at him. In spite of the man crouching down before him, Tony can tell he's quite tall, probably the same height as Thor but minus the bulk. The stranger is dress in an olive green Elfish tunic, black leather pants and riding boots; other than the attire that is similar to the locals, the man is missing a few key features. So judging by the show of strength alone, he must be either Asgardian, Vanir or other.

When those concern gems soon morph into mischief and thin lips curve into a smirk, Tony realizes he may be in more danger than he thought.


	10. Once Upon a Tree

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying."

As expected, that non sequitur brought the other tree occupant up short. Bushy eyebrows that look groomed once upon a time rise up briefly. So the guy understands English, that's a plus. Now if only Tony can figure out how the heck does AllSpeak work. His current hypotheses: either it's a linguistic technique or some type of cochlear implant. Given how low tech most of the stuff he's seen compare to the Kree Empire and Nova Corp, the latter doesn't seem likely. He might have to, oh Edison forbid, ask someone to show him. And reasonably, not at this moment.

That rictus of a grin returns twice as wide, making Tony think somehow, he's the butt of an insider's joke or someone's dinner. At least the stranger's teeth aren't sharp and pointy like some of the grey skin aliens he remembers seeing at the Red Cock. Although, Hannibal Lector didn't have sharp teeth either.

Half expecting Green Eyes to speak up already, the lingering silence between them seems to stretch on for miles. Made all the more creepy since tall, dark and pale frowns sharply and begins leaning towards him, thankfully there was a good three feet of space between them. Still, Tony backpedals the last few inches he had left, pressing flush against the tree trunk. He doesn't care if Steve said it's rude, Tony kept his wide-eye stare focus on the other. Not wanting to be surprise in any form that would chance a fall again, not that he's afraid of heights, but the notion of falling, with possible broken bones and being eaten alive by wolves… or other… yeah, no thanks. So the other option of being stuck on a tree with who could verily be the village idiot or a potential psychopath it is. If there is a cricket-like insect somewhere chirping Tony could have sworn he heard Sir Mix-a-Lot instead.

Wait.

"Anaconda?"

"Huh?"

The other's voice is so smooth and pleasant to the ears that it takes Tony a moment for that word and his thoughts to sink in. Mortified, Tony scrambles to find the small player in his pocket, fumbles a tad before he quickly pause and exit Clint's playlist. Darting his eyes back up, Tony finds the stranger has one of the earbuds in his slender yet deceivingly strong hands. An earbud attached to long wires that is current wrap around his soft tender human neck and his heart immediately tanks into his stomach.

"Could you not do that?" Tony squeaks out.

A head tilt and a perfect blank stare in response, has Tony swinging his vote closer to psychopath. Oh why, oh why does he always meet the crazy ones? If it was up to Steve, he would caution placating the stranger with reasoning. However, standard SHIELD procedure (otherwise known as common sense) never did work well for Tony Stark.

Swallowing a few times, Tony clears his throat before firmly stating, "Yeah, that too."

Immediately, frown lines mar the smooth surface of the other's face for a split second before he drops the earbud. Tony nods his thanks warily before he quickly unwinds the cords and shoves the device and all into his pocket. Maybe not a psychopath after all.

A snap of twig caught both of their attentions to the scene down below where the large black wolf is joined by two smaller slate color fun size man eaters. Instead of circling the base of the tree what with the rain finally dissipating, the trio took to huddling on their haunches with their tongue lolling out as if waiting for their meal to come back down. Trepidation sets in when Tony meets Green Eyes worried demeanor and receives a half shrug in condolence. His fellow tree sitter then lowers himself to straddle the large branch as well and crosses both arms over his chest as if for self-comfort.

"Tis not much to hope, but are you with a search party by any chance?"

"What? No!"

Broad shoulders slump forward. Then the other turns his head away, leaving smooth pale skin from cheek to clavicle expose to the fading light that broke through the leafy canopy. Tony's heart did skip a beat then and he quickly averts his eyes.

"Oh…but I thought…I have been stranded here for days. The castle folks did not send you for me?"

Shaking his head in negation despite knowing the other's not even looking his way, Tony scoffs accordingly.

"Heck no! Restricted area, man… er wait, who the fuck are you anyways?"

Tony shuffles back against the trunk once more when the other whips his head back up. With his head held high and arms akimbo, Green Eyes literally looks down his nose at the shorter man.

"I am Loptr, Keeper of the Northern Tower. What manner of dull creature are you to speak to me thus?"

Snooty bastard. Dress the fancy words however one will, that was clearly an insult. Tony straightens himself up and tries his best to look down at the tall fellow while glaring up. He puffs out his own chest and mirrors the other's pose for good measure.

"I am Prince Anthony Stark of Midgard and fucking outrank you, dipshit."

Narrow beady eyes assess him for a full minute before he lifts those long slender fingers to card through his hair. The guy snorts before remarking, "Thou art no Prince. I have seen beggars from Vanaheim dress far more richly than you and with better refinement. Most likely tis a poacher the wargs have caught in the midst."

Tony places a hand over his own heart looking scandalize, "First of all, this is Armani! The finest threads one can buy from my kingdom. Secondly, I don't do poach, not even eggs. Last and certainly not least, I say whatever the fuck I want and what kind of stupid ass gets stuck up a tree in his own backyard anyways?"

Tony watches in fascination when a tick beneath green eyes twitch in irritation even as a faint shade of pink dusted across a pale aristocratic nose. Thin lips then furl up with a snarl, "You insolent cur! If you must know, I was out conducting a survey of the grounds as is my duty around this time of year. That was two days ago when I stumble upon the very same warg that chase your worthless hide! Their kind are not known to wander these restricted woods. Something must have driven them here. As you can see, he and his whelps have been my constant companions since. I suppose being a Prince and all, as you say, no doubt a search party will be sent for you?"

Blinking through most of that lengthy explanation, Tony takes a long couple of minutes before exaggerating a sigh and flops back against the trunk, slumping down altogether. He sniffs then flashes his best lost puppy dog eyes before simpering, "Afraid not. Thor's gone off world to who knows where 'heim leaving little ol' me to pine for his return for who knows how long. I'm not even supposed to be out here: restricted area, remember?"

Tony allow the requisite amount of time expected for the other to digest that bit of info exchange before launching into what he does best: disconcerting people.

"Any hoot, I'm feeling a little peckish. Where's the stash of fruits and nuts that you've squirrel away for the winter? And uh, can you show me where you've been taking a dump too? I might need to go later."

And there it was: the break in character. The return of that wide manic grin says it all. A deep chuckle soon follows and the sound is equally familiar as it is contagious. Tony couldn't help but chortle in return as the pair doubles over with laughter.

Eyes sparkling with mischief once more, the man attempts to comment with much success. "You… you are utterly ridiculous! I…hahaha… I thought my performance was rather good, but yours is impeccable."

After taking a few deep breaths, Tony wipes an imaginary tear away as he sort of manage his giggles enough to respond, "I… ah hehe… thanks! Yours was solid acting, perfect setup even! But I did warn you."

Green Eyes lean forward, his gaze keen and sharp as one bushy brow rise up, "Indeed? I pray you tell me, what douse my ruse so swiftly?"

That was clearly a throw down of wits in an archaic sort of way. Tony leans forward as well and paste on his best shark grin for the media: challenge accepted. "Four reasons. One. You see there?"

Tony points at the distant flickering light that can be seen between a few branches less than half a mile away.

"The clear fact that this is a restricted area and the torchlight is still on in that tower of yours. So clearly two days stuck up here is a big fat lie. Unless you are not alone in that Tower, but if that is the case, someone should have come out to look for you by now. And another thing, you look way too clean and well fed to be out here for that long."

Green Eyes make a show of looking down at his own attire and nods in agreement.

"Very well. I applaud your deductive reasoning. What else?"

Enjoying this way too much, Tony sits back up and rubs his hands together before flashing a 'V' sign.

"Two. A smart cookie like yours truly would have taken the opportunity to escape once the wolfy warg thingy is charging after another meal ticket. You don't look dumb enough to stay and help."

Propping himself up, Green Eyes scoffs back with a roll of his eyes before deadpanning, "Your ill-concealed flattery of yourself lend either of us little credit."

Tony shrugs in return, "In the words of you people: like hearkens like, I guess. So three."

He points down at the wolves, where the big black one is lying down on his front paws and passing a very big yawn. While the other two are taking turns pouncing atop one another.

"As big and scary looking as they are, that picture right there is just too cute. And you're way too chillax around them too, so obviously they're more like your pets really. Am I right?"

Emerald gems soften just a tad when they glance down towards the wolf trio before they harden when they turn onto Tony. "Aye, perhaps. Perhaps not. You are quick to dismiss such dangerous creatures. And we hardly know each other, yet you liken yourself to me so soon? Either you are a simpleton or a babbling baboon who mistakes observations for cunning."

"Hey now! Don't go starting a verbal mudslinging. I can insult like the best of them. You don't hear me criticizing your man on a tree routine. That was lame by the way. I was expecting more along the line of 'Me Tarzan, you Jane'. That would have been cool."

It was as awkward as awkward can get knowing he's eager to continue while the other is looking at him in that way again. Piercing green eyes set in a stony face, not responding all of a sudden. Perhaps he is babbling. Tony can't help it though. It's been almost two weeks since he's had a good row with someone witty enough to trade insults with. So he makes a point to rein it in, just a tad for now.

"So…"

Still no response.

Okay. Awkward cricket chirping silence it is. Tony began twiddling his thumbs just to be cliché.

"Four."

Finally. Although, what the fuck?

"There were four reasons. What is the last?"

Oh, that.

"That you're wrong. I do know you."

And up goes the aristocratic brow.

"You do?"

Tony couldn't help the smug grin on his face spreading from ear to ear. It was the other's turn to look wary.

"I know that you like reading in the library more than you do fighting in the arena. That you have a tendency to rescue injured animals then adopt them. That you rather enjoy a good practical joke than join Thor, Lady Stiff and the three Stooges on a camping trip. So it is only natural to think that this is another one of your jokes. Well, am I right? Prince Loki?"

As if the other's hostility was wash away with the last of the rain drops, his whole demeanor softens to amusement.

"I like you."

Tony may or may not have blush down to his neckline; it is hard to tell considering the fading light.

"My reputation has preceded me. However, this is all happenstance truly. The moment you step through the restricted perimeter, I was alerted of the trespass. Once I recognize who you are, I send Fenrir to divert you here before you run into actual danger. The latter as you have surmise, tis a jest at your expense. Asgard would be doom indeed if Thor is to wed a matching nitwit. Fortunately, he has you in spite of your foolhardy plan to escape your fate."

Leaning forward, Tony splutters in protest, "Woah! That's not true—"

"Is it? _Is it?_"

Loki raises his chin and pushes forward, forcing Tony to back away.

"I know of you as well. Thor, my mother, my uncle; all of Alfheim has spoke about none else. Thor's Betroth: the perfect example of a blushing docile Omega. Yet, the moment he receives your formal acceptance, you flown the coop—"

"Bull crap!"

Tony will admit and not admit to many things, but when he commits to something or someone, it's no laughing matter.

"Ixnay on the coop-pay. Thor left, not me. This is me getting lost while out on a walk."

Eyes rounding with surprise, Loki straightens up then relaxes back to brace one hand on the branch behind him. His head then drops to one shoulder before a theatrical sigh is expelled.

"Pity. My take was much more dramatic."

Then with his other hand not brace against the branch, Loki even shoos at him with a blasé send off, "Fine. You have my blessing, go forth and be merry."

Tony deadpans in reply, "Gee thanks. Thor and I would have eloped without it."

With sudden interest, Loki bounces back to upright position and a smile on his face, "Truly?"

Rolling his eyes at the other's antics, Tony scoffs back, "Of course not."

"Again, pity," Loki responds wistfully.

Then quick as he appeared, Loki begins to climb down with much ease for a man so tall.

"Hey, wait! Hold up!"

Not wanting to be left behind, Tony follows suit. Clambering down wasn't as bad as climbing up with his tired limbs thankfully. As soon as his feet firmly touch the ground, two growling fur balls, each the size of a full grown timber wolf immediately pounces on him. Tony stops breathing entirely as he stand stock still as four paws lock him into place.

"Oh…um hey Loki…. They don't really bite, right? Baby wolves with sharp teeth and all?"

Tony gave his best puppy dog eyes to help him out, although probably not his best performance with him grimacing as the baby wolves trying (and succeeding) to lick his face and Loki doubling over with laughter.

"I'm glad I can amuse you. Now a little help, please?"

Tony had to endure several broad swipes of wolf tongue before Loki pull himself together long enough to intervene. He suspects the other took longer than necessary.

"Skoll. Hati. Desist."

Amazingly, the fur balls of energy drop their paws and sat back on their haunches. Sagging with relieved tension, Tony shakily side steps his way around them and makes his way towards Loki only to stop short a few feet when he hears the big black adult one rumble with warning.

"Um…"

Loki soothes a hand down the black wolf's mane and the rumbling changes altogether to one of enjoyment.

"Make no threatening movements and you shall be well. Fenrir will lead you back to the path."

Tony resumes his way towards the far side of Loki and his pet wolf and stops short upon hearing that. Alone with the scary big black wolf?

"Not awesome. Can't you do it?"

Turning around to face him, Loki frowns before stating matter-of-factly, "Tis best that you not be seen with one such as myself escorting you back towards the castle."

Tony is getting a neck crank. Damn freakishly tall Asgardians.

"Why?"

Loki's puzzled expression probably match his own, when the other spoke slowly in response as if Tony should know this, "Your virtue would be in question… and examine quite thoroughly were we to be seen publicly."

"Oh."

It finally dawn on Tony, the rules of engagement mention within the blue book translation pages and what Loki is saying.

"You're an Alpha?"

After a moment of stunned silence, Loki states in response, "You cannot tell."

It wasn't a question but Tony nods in return before explaining, "I thought you were a Beta considering how compose you are around me…"

At this point, Loki dips his head briefly before flashing Tony a wry grin, "As you can see, looks can be deceiving."

Stepping backwards, Loki motions for Fenrir to follow.

"Skoll and Hati shall take you back to the path. Have care, little Omega."

When Loki turns around and walks in the direction of the Northern Tower, Tony realize he was being dismissed and calls after him.

"Loki, wait!"

That only pause the second Prince in his steps. Without turning around, Loki looks over his shoulder and inquires instead, "Aye?"

It will have to do.

"It was nice meeting you."

Tony wish he could see the other's face. Luckily, he can still hear the humor radiating from Loki's voice after he retorts with a snort of amusement, "Likewise, however please adhere to the castle walls from now on. You are fortunate that I discover your trespass prior to alerting the guards. Otherwise, the current freedom you clearly so enjoy will be significantly curtailed in the future."

When Loki makes to resume his steps, Tony stalls him again.

"When will I see you again?"

"You wish to?"

Loki sounded surprise, which in turn cause Tony to speak in earnest. See, he always did maintain that he wasn't shy either.

"Yes. Believe me, you are the most fun I had talking with since coming here aside from Mortan."

However, the response he heard back sounded much too formal for Tony's liking.

"I am flattered; however since we are not properly introduced, tis best to allow the traditions to pass before we reconvene."

And just like that, the anomaly call Loki gets suck into the night and Tony is left with two eager wolf cubs with eyes aglow in the darken forest.

"Shit, when the heck did it get so dark?"


	11. Back in Black, Part I

Like a truant student returning to the dorms after curfew, Tony Stark found it surprisingly easy to sneak back behind the castle walls and towards his quarters with none the wiser. Was security always this lax? That thought didn't linger; instead of looking a gift horse in the mouth, Tony continues treading in the shadows until he reached the entrance to his room. Rather than hurried inside though, he pushed open just a tad to peak through the cracks and having found no traces of Tanna, immediately throws his weight forward than quickly back to close the double doors. Sagging with relief, he takes a moment for the sudden adrenaline rush to settle down.

He felt energized. Like he gotten away with something naughty, dangerous even. In a way, Tony supposed he did. The gossip columns on Alfheim (if they're anything like Earth's tabloids) would probably have a field day if they find out. He can see the headline now: 'Midgardian Prince Secret Rendezvous Revealed!' It wouldn't surprise him one bit and most of the time, Tony ignores them easily enough. After all he's been caught before doing much worse or at least what looks like much worse. But then again, instead of bailing him out, old Nicky would probably have his head on a platter this time for screwing up the Alliance Treaty at this juncture.

No matter, Tony left with anger at his wake and came back with feelings of…triumph? No, not quite. More like…liberated!

Yes, that!

Such a strange feeling it was. Not like Tony was a prisoner here on Alfheim or anything. However, his old therapist back on Earth would probably say otherwise given the dreams of being trapped, drowning, and falling he's been having for the past month or so. Almost always, two out of those three, he's in his Iron Man suit while in action. Only the dreams when he's drowning did he felt completely defenseless. Always in a dark cave somewhere, hands tied or held behind his back and forced head first into a trough of water. Sometimes he would break free and fight, but most times he would wake with his lungs on fire. Tony didn't need her interpretative skills to know what that meant. He's read enough on the subject on his own thanks. This was different though. He's made his choice in life and will forge his own path no matter where it takes him. It was time for his Betroth to meet Tony the Mechanic.

Thor would not know what hit him!

_'No Alpha wants an overachieving Omega, Tony.'_

Obadiah's words, always an echo of Howard's own, verve its ugly head and threaten to wash Tony's newfound resolve as waves on a sandcastle. Tony shook them off like a wet dog and readily aims his focus on other things.

Luckily, Tanna had been true to her word and heeded his request for more privacy once Thor and his pack mates had left. She had been through his room though, judging by the straightening of the beddings and the fresh selection of clothes spread out for him. The silky blue garment was similar to the one she'd chosen for Tony to meet Thor with.

Was there another official dining to be had? Once again, Tony shook his head of wandering thoughts in favor of more pressing matters. If he looks as bad as he smells, he's probably not fit to be seen by whatever panjandrum he was to attend to without Thor.

Tony toed off his muddy sneakers and eagerly began shucking his damp and dirtied garments on his way to the en suite bathroom. He'd been warding off chills for the past half hour and only the thought of a hot bath (in spite of the recent recall of drowning) was within reach kept him going. That whole fairytale experience should have been weird, but considering all that has happened to him in the past two weeks, that fits right in between goat drawn chariots and residing on an alien planet as far as Tony's concern. Other than initially being scared shitless and ending with treading through wet foliage in the cover of near blinding darkness, sure, he would definitely recommend Alfheim's woodland trails as a tourism package.

For the most part, Tony felt no trepidation with the wolf pair as escorts. Maybe it was foolhardy of him, or perhaps on an instinctually level, Tony somehow trusted Loki's Alpha assertion that these pet wolves will take care of him.

As playful as they were under Fenrir's watchful eyes, the pair had seem less so. Not a growl came from either of them when they pad along the makeshift trail quietly as could be. Every little sound seemed louder than it ought to; especially the occasional twig snapping under Tony's own weighted footsteps now and then. Tony even apologized (as a joke at one point) seeing how every time and again they would pause their trek to sample the suppose threat. In turn, he received a snort from one of them for his effort. He may not own or interact much with livestock for that matter, but Tony is fairly sure most animals aren't supposed to respond like that.

Slipping into the perpetual hot bath with a grimace, Tony let loose a string of curses that gradually grew in volume until all of his nearly numb skin is submerged into what felt like scalding water. After a few unbearable moments he sagged against the round river stones and sigh in appreciation.

* * *

He was probably late to whatever it was. One can never tell considering how much time the residents here spend in the dining hall, wherein one meal tends to blend into the next.

Freshly bathe and thoroughly scrubbed, Tony rushes down the corridor while straightening the pale blue Elvin tunic into place. Moments later, he slips into the dining hall and stands at the threshold to take in the proceedings. It has been awhile since the protocol was waived by Thor's escorting him throughout the day. Tonight was a different matter.

There sitting three seats left of King Frey, dressed in a simple white tunic and outer robe was a wizen looking elf with an equally as white and whimsy Fu Manchu. Ambassador Larien, the leading representative of the eight realms and the outer rim in the Alliance. Tony has never met him in person before, but he's resourceful enough to be privy beyond what old Nicky would tell him. The old elf looks twice older than King Frey who still has a mop full of gold ringlets like his sister. According to classified documents the Ambassador and his retinue should still be on Earth relaying plans and preparing for the next summit.

After receiving the prerequisite nod from King Frey, Tony took his usual seat next to Queen Frigga. She hugs him in greeting with whispered words of 'welcome, my son' to his ears before turning away, her trailing soft giggles the only indication of her mischief. Tony refused to acknowledge the blushing mark of her handiwork and wait for her to make the official introductions with their new addition. After exchanging nods and pleasantries, the Ambassador addressed a topic Tony was dreading.

"Prince Anthony, I understand congratulations are in order?"

Hoping to speak about that at the bare minimal Tony kept his response short, "Thank you, Ambassador."

Unfortunately, Queen Frigga was not deterred as she joined the conversation.

"Tis a formality but nonetheless, Thor should be in attendance instead of gallivanting across the realm with a mere rumor of marauders cited in Vanaheim. After all, there is much to discuss in regards to the wedding preparations."

Wedding plans?

Fuck the holy trinity of Physics! If there was ever a topic Tony wanted to talk less about other than his engagement and wedding night, it was wedding plans.

"Sister, take heart. If young men such as Thor, so full of vim and vigor, wishes to entertain such rumors, so be it. Our home world and Anthony should benefit all the more for it, what with Thor mellowed both in my court and in the marriage bower. Moreover, wedding preparations are the bride's concern."

Marriage bower!? Bride!? Tony was proud that the internal squeak he released was not audible to any other and attempted to change the subject a.s.a.p.

"So, Ambassador Larien… what brings you here to Alfheim?"

Okay. It wasn't his smoothest transition seeing as how both the Ambassador and Frigga raise their brows at him with varying degrees of amusement. Only King Frey chortle out loud at his expense, that old dog. Luckily without further comment, the King merely raised his golden goblet and took a sip. Tony took that as his lifeline to continue and smiled widely at the Ambassador in encouragement.

With a wry smirk beforehand, the Ambassador decided to play along, "My King has graciously permitted me to 'take a vacation' as you Midgardians would say. Now that the next phase in the Alliance has run along quite smoothly and has no further need of my machinations, I can finally be at ease knowing that that brat from Hammer Tech is no longer a valid candidate."

Tony can safely say, after a bit of coughing from his spit-take, that the Ambassador has really good timing. Tanna was quick to clean the mess and refill his goblet of bittersweet pick-me-up while Tony recovers.

The smile he flashed was all teeth before Tony remark back in kind, "Somehow I can't say I am relieved as well, in knowing that Justin Hammer is my immediate replacement should Thor and I not work out."

Returning with his own thoughtful look, the Ambassador states pointedly, "You and I both, Prince Anthony. And yet, your Army and Naval countrymen were his strongest advocates after that debacle with Obadiah Stane. Were it not for your recent innovations and heroic exploits, Odin All-father would not have approved you above all and allow none to oppose. You should feel honored, my lord."

Tony set his jaw firmly and gave the shrewd elf a much more in depth scrutiny. Old Nicky sure has been busy telling tales. Tony suppose it was nice to know that he had the All-daddy's approval all along, not that he needed it or want it. Howard and Odin can suck it, the decision was still his.

"As I would hope, my father-in-law should be honored with the higher probability of smarter and better looking grandchildren."

And naturally, Queen Frigga's interjection was spot on, "Aye, how Odin and I long for grandchildren! But first, we must make plans. Anthony, what say you to commencing the marriage ceremony here on Alfheim? It would be most romantic, would it not?"

Tony still had his eyes locked with the Ambassador when her words caught his attention. After receiving a slight nod from the old elf, Tony verves his gaze to meet the Queen's expecting ones.

"Um, the wedding… Here? But I thought… what of Asgard?"

The Queen's face lit up with enthusiasm and approval as she made sense of his jumbled question, "My dear, tis sweet of you to think of Asgard and her people. However, for the past thousands of years: as with Borr and Bestla, Thor's grandfather and grandmother and my own excellent father and mother, Njord and Noatun; as with Frey and Gerd, as with Odin and myself, there has been a precedence of royal marriages being conducted elsewhere. One can say: tis tradition even. So worry not, Asgard will have her fair share of celebration and merriment once the marriage has been blessed by the Norns."

Put it that way, Tony didn't really have any problems with her suggestion. He rather have the ceremony on Earth but that idea probably won't fly so might as well do it in a neutral and familiar setting like Gimlé.

"In that case, I have no objections except I like to request that my pack mates from Midgard be part of it. They are the only family I have left and I would love to have them here for support."

Tony decided to be blunt before shifting gear to temper tantrum. Thankfully, that was enough to convince Frigga, judging by how motherly her demeanor turned.

"Oh, Anthony. Of course, you shall have all the support you need."

Tony's beaming response was cut short when he noticed the Ambassador's disapproving headshake and just knew his parade was about to be rained on.

"Your Majesty, if I may advise on such?"

Queen Frigga turns to the Ambassador and gave him a nod in permission.

"The pack mates our young lord has allied with are called the Avengers. They are a special task force spearheaded by their commander supreme, Nick Fury."

"Oh, any shield brothers and sisters of Anthony are certainly welcome. Thor would be delighted by the addition."

With a forked piece of unknown meat dip in some unknown sauce held like a popsicle in his mouth as he chewed, Tony peaked out from Frigga's beautiful golden head and gave Ambassador Larien a warning glare in which the old elf looked right at him, winked, and commented rather dryly, "Aye, unfortunately, therein lies the problem. The Avengers consists entirely of a band of misfit Betas and Omegas and is led by an Omega captain. Tis unsupportable, your Majesty."

"Nonsense!"

Frigga's hackles were definitely raised judging by that tone as she turn towards King Frey and made her opinions known.

"Any warrior regardless of their distinction is welcome in the halls of Vahalla. I do not see why we should accept any less."

Wisely enough, Tony kept his mouth shut and continued chewing his food as he observed the political play, scanning from face to face to face. Even as the meat was swallowed and his goblet empty, when Tanna made a move to fill it he shooed her off for blocking his way.

If there ever was a beauty pageant for best poker face, King Frey has Nick Fury and Loki beat for the title. Tony understood the byplay all too well; these elves take their rules of engagement quite seriously judging by how he's been treated so far.

It didn't take long before the King said his piece.

"Tell me, Prince Anthony, are any of your pack mates bonded?"

"Yeth!"

Surprised by the direct formal address, Tony almost dropped his fork when he shot right off his seat and clumsily fumbled with the utensil before placing it next to his plate. Seeing as all eyes are now zone in on him as all conversations in the dining hall had stop, with stiff limbs, he sits back down and turn to address the King. Taking care to swallow whatever remains of food he had left in his mouth prior, Tony gulps down a nervous giggle threatening to burst forth and answers.

"Yes, sir. Hawkeye, a Beta archer has bonded recently to an Alpha-femme who has also joined the team."

"Does she now lead the pack?"

"No, your Highness."

That seemed to catch King Frey by surprise if his rounded eyes were an indication.

"She willingly follows an Omega?"

Never let it be known that Tony Stark doesn't think before he speaks, in this case, it only took a moment of hesitation right as he bit his lip when he go for broke.

"We all do, sir. Willingly that is, follow my Uncle Steve into battle. He is a capable leader and earned the title of Captain America by my kingdom. I do not know of any who would NOT stand with him on the front lines."

Yes, Tony Stark is capable of making a rousing speech since this immediately causes chatter to pick up at a heighten level of excitement. It also helped that Steve was nowhere near to hear his endorsement. However upon seeing the intrigued look on the King's face, with a sudden dread, Tony wondered briefly whether he's just thrown Steve under the bus again.


	12. Back in Black, Part II

King Frey didn't respond immediately as it were his attention was caught elsewhere Tony noted. A messenger had snuck in the dining hall sometime during his little speech and had relayed a message to one of the guards. It wasn't much of an interruption as far as distractions went Tony thought, however when the King deem to respond, it was very short and decisive.

"Then I look forward to meeting such a paragon."

That sound awfully like an end of topic statement. How anticlimactic was that? Judging by the crowd's reaction earlier, one would have thought he revealed an exposé on the Avengers or something. Granted it is not rare for people of difference race, sex, and distinction to break the mold back home, there are still pockets of the world where some cultures still enforce traditional submissive roles for Betas and Omegas. It wouldn't faze him one bit if Asgard, Alfheim, and the other realms were the same. With these long-lived folks, such out-of-date traditions most likely are still in practice for hundreds if not thousands of Earth years. Advance beings equal to stagnating genetic and social evolution.

So Tony had expected and was looking forward to dishing out the details to these backwatered elves on modern twenty-first century ideals. He could even throw together a proper slideshow modeled after the sensitivity training SHIELD made him take. Maybe Steve can teach the course when he arrives. Then it dawn on Tony that he will be reuniting with his pack mates sometime soon and that bolster his spirits like nothing else.

For now, he is satisfied that the King has given his approval and his word is law. No objections were made during his brief internal musing and the castle folks had reverted back to their regular scheduled medieval partying it would seem. Shrugging his shoulders, Tony eyes the table for some form of desert that didn't include meat, honey or cream. He would settle for some cake, pie or cookie even. Pouting at the lack thereof, Tony resolve to rectify that and add it to his agenda. That mental list had been growing ever since he came back from the woods and Tony is very much looking forward to most of them.

No more than ten minutes later, the King gave the signal for the night's entertainment to begin. It was a tad too early compared to the past week. When most eyes were turn towards the makeshift stage in the dining hall, Tony understood why. That same guard he noticed earlier now has the King's ear. Even though King Frey's calm demeanor never faltered, his abrupt rise from his seat quickly triggers all the residents at court to do so as well. After giving his sister a nod in parting, the King leaves with his retinue in toll. None dared to comment on his quick departure as they resume their attention to the night's entertainment.

"With Prince Thor more military minded than most within the Council would like, we shall make a proper politician out of you yet."

Gah!

It was a near miss, dropping his ass on the floor would have been the third time that night he made a fool of himself. Either Ambassador Larien has really bad timing or Tony suspect, really good ones of the comedic kind. After pasting on a not so warm welcoming smile, Tony turns to face the lounging Ambassador, who apparently has taken the opportunity to appropriate the seat next to him that was reserved for Thor. For a seemingly old elf, his movements were as stealthy as any seasoned soldier. Or ninja.

Ooh, a ninja elf!

However entertaining as that thought was, he shoves the off the wall mental picture out of his head. Curious as to what angle the old elf was aiming at, Tony responds with a hint of humility or the equivalent thereof, "I highly doubt that."

See unlike _Howard_ Stark, _Tony_ Stark can do humble.

And that doesn't seem to matter, Ambassador Larien continues to share his opinion as if he'd only paused for breath and Tony hadn't spoken a single word, "Though we have never met properly until now, I have been following your progress from a persona non grata to vox populi in a span of four Earth years. Rather a remarkable feat I must say for one so young, smart, and better looking."

Despite his initial annoyance in hearing his own words mock him, Tony couldn't help but be impressed by the old elf coming off as both a witty critic and a benign fan it would seem.

"Your command of Earth's lingo ain't bad but for such an old fart, you sure don't mince words do you?" Tony stated offhandedly, his end smirk punctuating the effect far more than his tone.

"Anthony!"

Oh, right. The Queen was sitting at his other side and the reproof on her face, although kind was also disapproving. Tony bowed his head and made quick work of reeling his cheeky tongue back in after a fake clearing of his throat.

"Ahem, my apologies."

Thankfully, the Ambassador was quick to come to his rescue, "No apologies necessary, your Majesties. I would applause Prince Anthony's mimicking skills as well and find his choice of words most refreshing. It certainly reminds me quite fondly of young Loki when he was under my tutelage centuries ago."

Upon that name drop, Tony takes his cue from the Ambassador and leans in with sudden interest. With glimmer of wistfulness in his eyes, the old elf stage whispers in a conspiratorial manner, "You see, he was rather liberal with his insults and quite inventive. My favorite still is 'you mewling quim'."

"My Lord, please!"

Given how nostalgic those words were spoken, the naughty meaning behind it, and the immediate interjection from the Queen, Tony couldn't contain the loud snort that erupted or the sniggering soon after. He could very well picture Loki delivering those exact words in that haughty manner of his.

His enjoyment was quickly quashed when Frigga huffs in further disapproval, "You three are too much alike and Norns forbid, when the time comes for this unholy trinity to meet. The Nine Realms shall never recover."

Tony had to bite his lip from replying with something far more fatalistic given her exaggeration. He was actually looking forward to such a meeting and wisely chose not to give her any ideas to prevent anything of the sort. Daringly the Ambassador cared not one jot, which made Tony actually longed for the day when old age can excuse any improper behavior of his own.

With a wizen hand extended in a placating manner, the old elf pleads his case, "I beg your pardon, your Majesty, but by all means the legacy of a Master Word-smith must be continued. Instead, the Nine Realms _should_ rejoice upon my discovery of another apprentice in the making. I believe the convergence of such a holy trinity will in fact cause all to weep and be awed by our collective brilliance."

If Tony is not mistaken, somewhere in that load of bull, the Ambassador has just offered him an internship of sorts. How 'bout that?

Although, judging by how reticent Queen Frigga actually looks, Tony's chances all but plummeted. Her oncoming rebuke would confirm it.

"Aye, I have no doubt most shall weep. Not by the brilliance of your combine words, rather the sharpness of it. Your influence is enough for one poor son of mine… yet I hesitate to grant you the privilege to hone another."

Huh, maybe not. If that's the case, Tony opted to tip the scale.

"Um, ma'am, diplomacy has never been my strong suit and from what little I know of Thor… well, maybe it might benefit us both?"

However, maybe he wasn't being too subtle when her expression shifted with pointy rise of a manicured brow. That look was all too knowing and familiar. It must run in the family. However, the edge of her lips did threaten to turn upwards and so he encouraged her with his own eager one.

Tony knew he had won the moment she shook her head and huffs in defeat, "Aye, I yield. You have my consent. Luckily, Thor has practice flyting with his brother to be adept in fencing with your unruly tongue."

Damn Fandral and his double entendres. The healthy image her words provoke and the memory of Thor's kiss earlier did little to staunch the rise of color on his cheeks. Now was certainly not the time for naughty thoughts since the curious looks from both future mother-in-law and mentor was not something Tony would provide an explanation to any time soon. A diversion was in order. He reached for his cup and took a long gulp before pretending to enjoy the minstrel on stage for a moment.

"So, ahem… I've been doing some reading and…um, I understand that most weddings in Alfheim are done on the day of Beltane? If so, it's only less than two months away and I could really use my pack mates' support soon."

Okay. Maybe that was about as subtle as a celebutante not wearing undies coming out of a low seated sports car. Still, Tony had to start somewhere. And the look shared amongst the two he's sandwiched between was not exactly encouraging.

"Oh, don't tell me they have to apply for a VISA at an Elvish Embassy or something? How much red tape are we talking about here?"

Eventually it was the Ambassador who broke the silent impasse. Good thing too since Tony was about to blow a lid since he can feel the big giant 'BUT' there somewhere. He would have laughed at his own joke if the topic wasn't so serious.

"Were your old pack consisted of all mated pairs, the arrangements would be made simple. Were they consisted of unmated Alphas and Betas, the usual precautions would be put in place. Were they consisted of unmated Omegas, as of now there are no proceedings for such. Your presence here, Prince Anthony, is an exception to the rule rather than the norm."

Just as he thought, more archaic rules meant to put Omegas in their place. With taut fists locked at on his lap Tony dipped his head not in defeat but to hide the threat of tears in his eyes. Having to jump through so many hoops just to meet Thor, he'll do whatever it takes for the only family he has left.

"On Midgard, there is a custom in which the Omega's parental figure gives them away in the ceremony. Even if you don't have that custom, what do I have to do to get my Uncle Steve here to see me wed? It would mean a lot to me."

Now he's done it. Tony must look truly pathetic for Frigga's face to crumble with so much sympathy at his words. Ever the graceful Queen and concerned mother figure, Frigga reaches out in a silent plea to cup his face. Her hand hovers patiently for his permission. It was an odd request seeing as she's not quite family yet, though Tony didn't want to seem disrespectful. With barely a visible nod, he allows it.

He hadn't expect anything to become of the gesture, but the rush of tenderness cocoons his entire body and he couldn't help but close his eyes and succumb. The outside world melted away even as her forehead gently touched his and the sweet scent of her breath ghosted across his cheek. Tony felt overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of tranquility, yet he would gladly drown in it.

Then confusion subverts the calm when she whispered as if from afar even though she's right there, "I forget how relatively young you are despite such hardships you have already endured even as you triumph over your adversities. Tis not an easy path the Norns have paved for you and my son, yet the journey will have its own reward. Love him; guide him; be the companion, the solace my son dearly needs as he shall be yours in return."

* * *

That was Weird, with a capital 'W' weird.

It was a quiet trek back to his quarters after experiencing what he felt was a… religious experience in lack of a better description, not that he believes in the Norse myths these people inspired by the by. He couldn't remember much during their weird huddle, only afterwards. Ambassador Larien had disappeared and Queen Frigga seemed none the worse for wear. In fact, she was smiling and clapping as the minstrel began another one of those epic poems song-telling. While Tony's busy coming out of some drug induced lethargy after eating one too many pot brownies. Not that he had experience with those, much. Chalking up the entire experience to bad indigestion and sleepiness, Tony uploads the whole episode into the backburner of his mind to reflect upon later. A lot later, when he doesn't feel so disembodied.

It didn't occur to Tony to take the same precautions he did earlier in the evening; otherwise he could have save his bleeding eardrums the trouble of deafening it. In all fairness, the gentle push of his bedroom doors shouldn't have warranted the subsequent ear-splitting screech that put him at full alertness.

Tony dives forward, tucks and rolls behind the stone table as both gauntlet hands were extended and fully charged before he even takes his surroundings into account. There, a few steps from the en suite bathroom stood Tanna clutching the remnants of his dirty clothes as if she's seen a ghost. Contrary to popular description, her complexion was nothing near white, but a ruddy red. All the colors must have poured to her face and neck from the exertion of that sudden scream. Seeing no immediate threat, Tony power down and reverts his weapon back to form.

As he straighten up and dusted himself off, Tony happily gave her a piece of his mind, "You can't do that kind of shit—aaah!"

"Eeeeeeek!"

Jumping back a few steps, Tony covered his ears this time until the racket stopped. She looked just as startled as he was and thankfully has the good graces to look embarrassed. As she should be. He slowly lowers his hands and warily approaches Tanna as if she was some skittish animal. Tony wasn't taking any chances. His earlier daze has been completely blown over.

"Mind telling me what that was all about?"

Tanna initial takes a deep breath, chokes on it somehow then quickly drops the clothes in her hands as if they were on fire or something. Frowning at her behavior, Tony lectured on, "Word of advice sweetheart, scaring the Midgardian with a heart condition is a very bad idea. Just saying. So mind telling me what got you screaming bloody murder?"

She ducked her head and whispered, "You did."

"Me!?" Surprised barely describe all the shit Tony was currently feeling.

Quick as a whip, Tanna raise her head and glares as politely as she could at a foreign prince, "Aye. I intended to 'pop in' and tidy a bit prior to your arrival as is my wont. However the moment I was inside, the stench of wargs overpowered me."

"Oh…um, how exactly…" It was quite natural that Tony's spoken words and his thoughts of 'oh shit, busted' were disconnected.

"Tis all over your clothes," concerned tinge with accusation was clear in her voice.

That's when it finally dawned on him that she could actually pick up the smell of those wolves even if it had been several hours old.

"Wow. That's some pretty powerful schnauzer you got there. It's like super smell isn't it for all you guys?"

With all jokes aside, Tony worried if she could smell his encounter with Loki. Probably not. If she did she would have mentioned it already. Thinking back, Loki only helped Tony briefly onto the branch while the mini wolves licked him all over. Ah, that would explain it. On the heel of that thought, came an epiphany. The phrase 'scent claim' in relations to his courtship took on a whole new meaning.

Suddenly feeling lightheaded, Tony walked towards the chaise and sagged against the base. It all made sense. The hand holding, the kissing, the brief touches here and there; in addition the prevention of Fandral or any Alpha-Betas from doing the same. It must be some territorial Alpha male ritual, another archaic rule in their society to follow. For good reason, Tony shudders at the thought in being covered in someone, anyone's scent.

"Tis what we were born with," Tanna responded with an uppity tilt to her head despite the lingering worry on her demeanor. Determination soon sets in and she soon joins Tony and sat facing him with her robed covered knees folded behind her as comfortably as she could. Unrelenting in her quest, she prodded him a bit further like a dog with a bone (or Pepper Potts at a Louboutin sale), "Prince Anthony, how did you come about the heavy scent of wargs?"

It just so happen he had an answer ready, even if it was all improvisation, "Funny you should mention that. Right after Thor left, I decided to go out for a walk. You know, get some fresh air, checkout the scenery, stuff like that. No biggy. So I was on this trail (very much within the boundary you outlined by the way) minding my own business when these two huge grey wolves brushed pass me chasing after something small and fuzzy. They bowled me over, one even growled at me before they sped off. Seriously, I thought I was their dinner for a moment and thanked my lucky stars. At the time I just figured maybe wolves here don't eat humans."

He shrugged at the last part, not wanting to over sale the story too much. Subreptitious truth makes the best lies Tony found.

Tanna's response was slow in coming and her delivery was even slower, "Truth be told…they probably would. Wargs are not known to be discriminating. However, the ones you encountered are grey, did you not mention?"

After receiving a nod of confirmation from Tony, immediately she releases a sigh in relief before explaining in a much faster pace, "then most likely you have met the whelps of Fenrir, Prince Loki's pet warg. They are trained and will not hurt you unnecessarily. You are fortunate, my Lord."

Tony gave her statement the proper amount of time to mull over even as he relived the horror of what it could have been. Okay, maybe he _was_ lucky, more so to have encounter Loki in the process. Now that he thought about it, earlier even though he stayed with Frigga after she did that Weird thing she did, his mind was too hazy to ask more about her second son.

"Hey, Tanna. Does that mean Prince Loki is actually here at Gimlé?"

Even though Tony knows the answer, her shrug told him the extent of her knowledge, which was a total bummer if you ask him.

"Prince Loki comes and goes whenever he chooses… though I have seen him visit my mentor once in a while and only joins the royal court when Lord Larien is attending. And oh, he makes a habit of touring the royal library every summer and keeps mainly to himself."

It took a moment for Tony to catch up to Tanna actually rambling on and on about something besides her duties and studies. Despite her professional tone, those key details, and the fond look in her eyes was a dead giveaway. The smile that brightens his face was all evil.

"Do I smell a crush?"

Aha! The blush on her face said it all despite her instant denial, "Nay! Of course not. Besides your sense of smell is atrocious."

"Methinks, the lady doth protest too much."

* * *

The next morning, Tony insisted Tanna introduce him to the kitchen staff. There he campaigned to fix the menu to his liking. Well, more like demand that his taste buds be met. However, that particular task on his agenda was easier said than done for the head cook was as headstrong as any chef of a five Michelin star restaurant. It took him all morning but he managed to insult her dignity and pride enough to accept the challenges of making foreign meals.

"That went well," Tony mocked to his bedroom in general as he flopped backwards onto the chaise with one leg thrown over the backrest, another angled to the floor, and his head dangling off the foot end. At that moment in time, with his vision turned upside down, decorum was the furthest thing from his mind. It was easy to ignore Tanna's disapproving shake of her head as she shut the doors behind her and began tidying his room. Whatever, Tony could totally afford to stop acting like a Prince at least for a few days.

He's gone and done his duty. Tony Stark, the linchpin to the Alliance Treaty, has kept his end of the bargain and officially agreed to marry Thor Odinson as specified in the terms from the Proclamation. Howard should be proud. His son is marrying a supposed Norse god after all. The Stark legacy will go down as part of myths and legends.

As if. He doesn't give a rat's ass about his dad's legacy. It was a sacrifice move from Tony's own playbook: ensuring the protection of seven billion lives for one hand in marriage to begin with. In exchange, Earth gets to join the known worlds and will have help to resolve their petty wars, growing population, diminishing resources, health pandemics and toxic pollution problems to name a few. Steve was right; it was a small price to pay on his part.

But for right now, with no more distractions, it was time to put the rest of his plans into action. Finally! Too excited for words, Tony uses his legs to pilfer an embroidered cushion pillow thingy and jackknives his body to grab it with both hands, before returning to his earlier position as he squeezes the living daylights out of the pillow to release some of his excess energy having won the kitchen wars.

"Shall I leave you two alone, your Highness?"

Arrested in his antics, Tony repositions the throw pillow low enough to glare from beneath it. From the looks of her, his current PA was having a hard time trying not to laugh as she even bit her lip to prevent the sound from coming out.

Due to Steve's incessant lectures, he begrudgingly sat up and lounges against the back rest instead, though still not relinquishing the pillow from his hold as he rests his chin atop it. It was too comfy he reasoned then just to be cheeky he gave Tanna a wink before saying, "Maybe later."

She only shook her head and waited primly with her hands folded loosely at her waist level.

Oh right, plans!

There were too many ideas competing in his head. Distractedly, Tony raised a finger to what hopefully be a universal sign of 'wait a minute' and not the 'birdy' equivalent in Alfheim. The crease on his brow deepened for a few minutes before they flew up immediately. Donning a lopsided grin, Tony leered up at Tanna, "Take lots of notes, sunshine. 'Cause today is gonna be a brand new day and little Tony is coming out to play."

Tanna's puzzled frown only made Tony's grin widen even further.


	13. The Good, the Bad and the Smelly, Part I

"_That_ is a lot of horse shit."

The ramshackle, poop smelling, dark and dank subterranean sorry excuse for a horse-smith's forge looks better on paper. The fact that it rained yesterday didn't help to advertise the circular real estate either. He wasn't expecting a chateau villa in Italy per se, but a medieval squalor of all things? No way could it be sanitary and yet, this is what Tony has to work with. Even with his human nose, the stench of wet hay mix with horse shit made him want to up chuck his breakfast of faux Denver omelet. Cook would definitely be upset if she found out after all the criticism he put her through to get it somewhat decent. It wasn't Steve's cooking but Tony couldn't have all his hard work back fire.

"Indeed, sir," remarked Tanna as professional as could be after giving him a look for stating the obvious.

At their exchange, a few giggles erupted from behind them. Ah, yes. Their little audience. With Thor gone, most of the dozen elves Tanna had gathered for his cause had been fangirling him for lack of a better description. How else could one describe the constant ogling and giggling wherever he went? Hopefully his new PA has given them a heads up and they know what they're in for, although considering that these elves are wearing their finest silks, Tony suspects the opposite is true.

Not wanting to dwell on the whys too much, Tony turns away from the dilapidated structure to address the gathering crowd. If they were expecting a nice little keynote speech about his little pet project, well these elves are in for a letdown.

"Judging by how all the decor I've seen so far is in its natural metal polish, stone and wood grain furnishing state… I don't suppose any of you know where I can get some paint or plaster?"

Their answers were slow in coming but after a few verbal murmurs and a couple of head shakes in negation, Tony continues with a wry smile, "Didn't think so. After looking closely at the flagstone walls in the quad and the mega ton granite ones at the arena, I don't even see any traces of cement or mortar used to bind them together yet they stack and interlock seamlessly. The last time I'd seen something like that was in Machu Picchu, Peru. Remind me to give your masons the third degree later. Right now we got shit to muck."

A few minutes later, the dozen elves were still standing there. Tony held his smile a little longer though it didn't quite reach his eyes. First they look at the Omega standing with his arms akimbo with a weird smile plastered on his beardless lips, then at each other while a pair of red-haired twins gave Tanna the stink eye. One of them, the more muscular one of the lanky duo who looked like he's going through the first stage of elf puberty with acne and all, spoke up.

"I beg your pardon, your Highness?"

Tony dons on a fake smile and gave the relatively young elf a condescending nod to continue after seeing the equally as fake deference he received from the other.

"With all due respect, most of us assembled here are pages, squires, and apprentices to the nobles of Alfheim. We are unaccustomed to provide muckraking services as your Majesty so requires. If I may be so bold, sir, as to recommend those from the scullery or the stable hands, perhaps?"

Ha! As if Tony hadn't notice all the idleness that has most of the dozen elves here milling about the quad, twittering like high schoolers on a summer break. Though he may not have gone to high school, Tony had seen most of John Hughes' movies thank you very much. He has a pretty good idea what this age group is putting their unproductive time into. Fans of his or not, Tanna was right to volunteer these elves. This primeval clique needs a lesson à la Steve Rogers' style.

After giving this cop out the legitimacy it deserves, Tony folds his arms across his chest and stated in all fairness, "Sure, no problem as long as you take over their duties while they attend to my tasks. It'll only be a few days, give or take what I have in mind. Then you can go back to whatever it is you were doing."

He made sure to give each elf a measured chance to take up on his offer before he moved on with his stare down. It was no surprise when the twins gave Tony a shallow bow along with their murmured assurance that they'll send their replacements and left in haste. Hopefully within the hour, otherwise Tony would have to concoct some fitting punishment to establish his authority.

As Tanna began passing out the shovels and grabber-like sweepers to the remaining ten, Tony moves to stand beside her and whispers for her ears only, "What the heck is their problem?"

At least she acknowledged his inquiry with a side glance before refusing to dignify him with a response until all the elves reluctantly shuffle inside the forge out of earshot.

"Lars and Rhys, they squire for the mayor and steward of Ports Mouth respectively. Their masters, like many of the other nobles who are eligible Alphas, has been relaying messages via squires and pages to the King since your arrival. Unfortunately, this caused an unanticipated side effect. In having direct access to King Frey, a few young elves like the twins have inflated their own importance. Thus, I applause your method to weed out the troublemakers, your Highness."

He gasps in hearing her praise then sniffles before wiping the nonexistent tears from his eyes. After giving his performance a double take, she pretends not to notice. Unrepentant in his antics, a grinning Tony takes one of the grabber-whatsit and heads toward the hovel while inquiring just because he can, "Um, we're probably not thinking of the same place, but I'm going to ask anyways. Where is Portsmouth exactly?"

With a shovel in hand as she kept pace alongside him, Tanna answers without missing a beat, "You should know, your Highness. You were there but two week ago; the Red Cockerel tavern is situated at the edge of Ports Mouth."

Then with a solemn nod, Tony mused with a straight face, "Ah, the Red Cock strikes again."

And pretends not to hear the unladylike snort next to him before declaring out of the blue, "You want to know what I think? Of course you do. I think you have no trouble identifying the troublemakers at all. _'Never underestimate a woman no matter what distinction'_ my old man used to say. It's a first for me, but I do agree with him on this one. Anyhow, I am happy to exert my Princely authority to spank any donkey's butt anytime and anywhere. So feel free to direct them to me."

Wonder of all wonders, Tanna actually rolled her eyes at him before remarking with a shake of her head in disapproval, "I think I need not a translation to understand your crude meaning, my Lord."

* * *

At first, it was a strange sight to see them all dressed in their finery approaching the clumps of dung heap as if it'll attack or something. The novelty soon wore off due to Tanna's diligent task mastery while they file in and out of the forge to pour bucketful of poop into a large cart. Tony has half a mind to hand her a whip to complete the mental picture he had.

By the time the two replacements arrived, the team had clear a wide path from the fold out barn doors to the center fire pit. Tony was inspecting said revealed barn door when he noticed the newcomers sticking out like a sore thumb standing at his peripheral. The Hansel and Gretel runner-ups seem to be overstimulated with their imitation of a deer in the headlight. As if it were possible their faces turn even paler when Tony turns and addresses them directly. For once, his neck isn't locked permanently in the tilt up position when talking in general.

"Welcome to the party."

Upon seeing their muted awe, Tony flashes them his fan favorite smirk for the public and continues in a fast pace delivery, "Since we're burning daylight as we speak and there are lots to do still, here's the shorthand version: you two are going to help me fix this place up so that I can use it. So who are you, where were you, and what skills do you have? Come on, don't be shy."

They must be siblings too since both shared identical looks of astonishment before the boy spoke up, his voice breaking at odd intervals, "My name is Kip, your Highness. And I hail from Hjaalberg…"

After seeing the shake of Tony's head followed by the circling motion of his hands, the boy catches on and quickly adds, "er… from the Woods-smith's lodge when Master Lars bid me to attend you…And this changeling here is my sister, Pip, an apprentice for the Baker, sir."

If baleful looks could maim, young Pip would have skewered her brother for that remark. Tony likes them already. He signals for his PA to join them, "Meet Kip and Pip. Pip and Kip meet Tanna. Hmm…Kip and Pip. Pep and Tanna… That just won't do. See you're the odd one out here. You'll have to change your name to Tip or Tap in order to fit in."

"I will do no such thing of the sort," Tanna scoffs under her breath.

Feigning a long suffering sigh, he ignores her comment in favor of rallying his new minions.

"Fortunately for you two, the things I have planned require your specific skill sets. So consider yourself recruited."

Tony pulls out a list he scribbled earlier. On a whim he had decided to try his hand in doing the translations himself wherein Tanna double check his match stick writing. Luckily the Futhark runes he learned from his training days were only a slight variation of the current Asgardian script. With her insistence, next to his barely legible scratches was the Elvish equivalent. Interestingly, the scripts look more like Sanskrit than a mock up of Tolkien's own. He hands the list over to the siblings and noticed both of them squinting at the contents. Either they're in need of corrective lens or they're the byproduct of a system who does not promote the 'no children left behind' policy. Shaking his head, Tony turns back to the crew who's literally mucking around.

"You there! Yeah, with the side braid. Come here, please."

Tony pointedly ignores the questionable dark smear on the tall elf's cheek. Instead, he takes the list back and he hands the list over to the newcomer, "Okay boys and girl, these are the items I need you to get for me from the kitchen and the wood shop. You, the tall one, will help carry whatever items that are retrieved and make sure Pip and Kip complete the task without any hassle. Well? Go on."

He shoos them away and turns back to his task. After a minute and Tanna hasn't budge from her spot, he looked at her from over his shoulder and asked with an expression of all innocence, "What?"

All he heard was another unladylike snort before she switched back to drill sergeant mode. He wisely stayed out of her way after that.

* * *

"One great thing about having an art history major for an uncle is that you learn how to make things like paint from scratch. Although at the time, I was about as interested in making paint as I was watching it dry. Lucky for me, my memory retention is so high I remember shit like this even if I don't want to. So with a little bit of cornstarch, a little bit of water, a few drops of food coloring…and voila! You have Impasto!"

Of course Tony wasn't doing the mixing, not when young Pip was doing the task with so much enthusiasm. He would be too compared to what the older elves are doing.

"Your Highness, do we 'paint' with it now?"

Tony checks her brother's progress on the plaster before answering, "Not yet, this is just the base. I'll need the plaster to change the texture first. You can dump it in now, Kip."

With little supervision, the siblings completed his little chalk mixture and soon were painting within the outline Tony drew on one side of the barn door facing inwards. He would have chosen another location but the lack of natural sunlight inside the building and the cramp space left little to be desired for what he planned for its use.

Little by little the forge was cleaning up nicely. Despite the awkward beginning, Elvish work ethics rocks! No matter how dirty the job, when they set out to complete something, they're pretty thorough. The forge still looks like a squalid hovel but at least a clean one that smells like fresh wildflowers. A few of his fangirl-elves took the liberty of spreading fresh rushes sprinkled with flower water on the dirt stone floor.

The sun had already set when Tony, equally covered in muck and chalk paint, dismissed the group with a job well done and invited them (which in includes Kip and Pip as well) to dine with him in the hall after they clean up of course. This was met with boisterous approval before they dispersed. Afterwards, he gave clear instructions to Tanna to reserve a specific table and have Cook prepare items six, seven, nine, twelve and fifteen on the menu. Tony may not know how to cook, but he certainly knows what ingredients are in it and what it is supposed to taste like. Hopefully Cook would not disappoint.

That night, to the great amusement of King Frey, Queen Frigga and Ambassador Larien, Prince Anthony of Midgard expressed his heartfelt apologies in not able to dine with them for he had promised a feast to honor the group of young elves who had helped him in his time of need. Upon his proper dismissal by the King, Tony's reception as the host of their reserved table rang out with applause and no small amount of teasing. Since atypical of the usual dining experience on Alfheim, all of his distinguish guests were sitting at a still empty table.

Knowing that he had a bigger audience than just the immediate group with him, Tony dialed the Stark's brand of showmanship up several notches and allowed his voice to carry through to entertainment level.

"Welcome! I would like to thank all you muckrakers who have joined me this lovely evening."

This was met with a burst of laughter from his table, while frowns and murmured confusion spread amongst the others. If there was a twin set of eyes staring holes at him from some obscure table, Tony didn't noticed. Regardless he carried on.

"I would like to take this moment to praise your dedication and hard work. Without your generosity and support, I would still be knee deep in horse shit."

Another burst of laughter and the susurrus grew more restless.

"Instead, I look forward to working with you again in hopes that we may continue what we started today. As an expression of my humble thanks, I offer you a taste of Midgard!"

With that as his signal, the kitchen staff brought out plate after plate of foreign fares. The other elves rose from their seat in an uproar. All wanted to see and only a few were green with envy. To Ambassador Larien however, he had no qualms to crashing a party without a proper invite.

"Is that pizza and cookies I see? Oh, well…would your Majesty please excuse me?"

He took King Frey's eruption of laughter as permission and was out of his chair and down the dais before it even stopped.


	14. The Good, the Bad and the Smelly, Pt II

"You didn't have to come all this way, Ambassador. I made sure some complimentary sample platters were sent to the royal table," says Tony as he points with the tilt of his chin and smiles upon seeing the delight on both the royal siblings' faces, "See?"

The Ambassador didn't bother to confirm this even as he parked his keester down on the bench opposite him. The old elf had already taken a slice of combo pizza and began chewing with an expression of such bliss. How Larien manage all that gooeyness without messing up his white Fu Manchu Tony would like to know. He's been thinking about growing a mustache or even a goatee himself just to buck the trend of clean shaven Omegas.

The Ambassador swallows audibly before gesturing with his handful of half-eaten pizza down the table and spoke with mock horror, "And miss out on all the fun?"

He then takes another bite, chews and moans with exaggerated enjoyment before continuing, "My compliments to Cook in replicating such fares. The crust is a tad too crispy for my taste but the toppings are a delightful attempt considering what is available on Alfheim. I believe tis a successful merger of the two realms. If only politics be as easy as culinary arts."

"You should have been at the initial taste test," Tony mock shudders and gestures with his hand, "I was this close to request King Frey in allowing me to make an inter-realm order from Lombardi's."

Larien snorts in return, "King Frey may think it amusing but I doubt Heimdall would appreciate the Bifrost to be reduce to a delivery service."

Tony caught himself mid-laugh, "Wait, Heimdall is an actual person and not just a codename to activate the Bifrost transporter?"

Finishing off the last couple of bites, the Ambassador simply shrugs before answering, "Aye. I suppose tis a signal in a way. Most need only call for his attention since he is Heimdall, the All-Seeing Gatekeeper of Asgard; the wielder of Hofund— "

Tony decidedly cuts him off, knowing how long these lengthy titles can get, "Yeah. I was warned all those Norse gods mumbo jumbo business were all myths wasn't it? That whole spiel is making it sound more legit by the minute."

"The fact of the matter is, such fictionalization told and retold by mere mortals over a millennia ago about beings they once revered as gods are oftentimes embellished and holds little knowledge beyond exaggeration in one breath while predicting our demise by another. Is it not best, Prince Anthony, to witness for one self? Surely, none of these stories you have read alluded to the current state of affairs: of Thor, the God of Thunder, to wed Anthony Stark of Midgard?"

Larien raises a brow to punctate his argument and let it linger between them. Tony couldn't agree more, since the beginning he was adamant the source materials were flawed. It didn't mean he should concede without comment however, "Point, point, and one more point for prosperity. Sheesh, you definitely weren't kidding about being a Master Word-smith, huh?"

By now, the Ambassador had place a hamburger slider and two slices of meat lover's pizza on his plate. As much as Tony would like to dive in with equal fervor as the guests at his table are doing, except for Tanna who's standing sentinel behind him somewhere per usual, he's already full from the earlier taste test. It didn't mean he didn't enjoy watching them (especially Kip and Pip) go to town with some of his favorite foods while having a bit of good ol' intellectual conversation with the Ambassador. Tony gestures the old elf to have at it before grabbing two nutty gingersnap cookies for himself.

After polishing his plate off, Larien took a swig of his wine then gave a hardy belch in compliments to the chef before continuing their conversation not without following Tony's example and snatch up two cookies too.

"Tis not an envious profession I assure you. No matter the species or distinction, although some worse than others, people learn not to trust a Word-smith on principle. They expect our every other word to be filled with traps and allurements. As young Prince Loki can attest, the Asgardians are the worst of the lot since they perceive action to be more honest than words."

Brawns over brains, oh what a pity. Tony is beginning to dislike Asgard more and more despite not having step foot on his future home yet. At least he would have a natural ally in Loki to look forward to.

"Yet they have no reservation to send you in for negotiations?"

"Ah, your estimation of me is commendable, my Lord, however tis false in your assumption. Make no mistake: in this game of war, tis much like your Midgardian chess, the All-Father knows his rooks from his pawns. I am merely another chess piece on the board. When words fail, the Asgardians takes great pleasure in holding back none of the action."

In other words: expendable. Tony wonders briefly what value he has on Odin's chessboard and frankly lost his appetite altogether. He pushed the half eaten cookie away and signals for Tanna to pour him his watered down wine combo instead.

"If you were trying to recruit me as a student, your sales pitch needs a bit of work."

"My apologies, your Highness. Tis not my intention to be a party pooper, so to speak. In fact, I was looking forward to spending the last night of my vacation with a charming Omega such as your lovely self. It has been many years since my late wife exacted a vow from me to never remarry. Otherwise, I am tempted to challenge Prince Thor with what you Midgardian's would say the droit du seigneur."

Tony did a spit take then, promptly wiping his mouth with his sleeves as he coughed up the rest up. Thankfully, it wasn't a huge mess like last night. The young elf sitting next to Tony shook his head and offers him a cloth napkin in sympathy. It took a few dabs to get the rest of the liquid off his person before Tony finally lifts his head and glares at the Ambassador with amuse annoyance.

"I think you meant droit de défier since the former would get you a big fat 'ew' whereas the latter would be 'aw, you would do that for me.' Besides, you're a bit old for me, don't you think? Creepy much?"

"I would not demur at both options," says Larien with a devilish glint in his eyes before remarking offhandedly, "Indeed, Prince Thor would be a bit old for you, I am thrice his age."

After quickly taking a gulp before the old elf says something else inappropriate, Tony decides to give the Word-smith a taste of his own medicine, "You know, you're the second old fart to come on to me, somewhat. Do I look like jailbait to you?"

Choking just a bit, Larien splutters cookie fragments at his word choice and Tony couldn't widen his grin far enough. The old elf dusts off his Fu Manchu before admonishing him with a shake of his head, "Age is relative between species, what matters is the physical maturation are compatible. You would attract any Alpha regardless of age who would enjoy a mate with a bit more wit. Tis common in Alfheim, Asgardians are a different lot altogether."

Tony shrugs, "I don't know, if Thor wasn't such a cock block, I think Fandral would have jumped me the first chance he gets."

"Fandral would lie with any who would spread their legs," scoffs the Ambassador before taking on a much more serious tone than Tony has ever heard the other addressed him with, "I would advise you not to encourage Fandral. His conquest once complete, the scoundrel flees the trap of a marriage bower most hastily."

"Woah there. You know I wasn't serious in considering him as an option, right?"

Instead of reverting back to their earlier banter, Larien continues to warn him, "Serious attachment or not, I caution you to lend your good will needlessly. In these realms, any sign of affection from an unmated Omega is consider an invitation for carte blanche."

Okay. Oddly enough, Tony is beginning to feel like he's in another fairytale where his hairy god elf is warning him of some evil portends of doom. He tries laughing it off, but it comes out awkward. So he tries a different tactic, "Seriously, I am envious of you being able to use French, Latin and even modern slangs so easily."

"Tis no more easier than yourself are capable of understanding me," quips the old elf in return.

There. That did seem to do the trick. So he continues in this vein, "True. I guess after two weeks of watching my words almost all the time and having to explain myself more than once—"

Tony takes a moment to look over his shoulder pointedly at Tanna, who he knows for damn sure has been eavesdropping, before completing his observation, "I find it refreshing that's all. So back to carte blanche, well?"

The glint of humor was back in those all too knowing eyes, Larien merely shrugs one shoulder in return, "Tis the best description I can think of at the moment. I suppose, one can say is similar to droit de défier, except the challenger may commit the act of bride stealing and not suffer any legal repercussions for it."

Huh. Bride stealing is a thing. For that brief moment, everything clicked. He's gone back in time and entered a sci-fi fantasy Omega novel.

Tony hopes his effort to look less dumbstruck was not in vain, "So I'm confined here until Thor and I do the deed? Glad to know."

Again, probably seeing more than he ought to comment, Tony is grateful that Larien chose not to, "Crudely put, but aye."

"Duly noted," and Tony winks with a kitschy click of his tongue for good measure, "And no flirting, gotcha."

Shaking his head at Tony's contradicting behavior, the old elf declares in delight, "Tis affection you must withheld, not flirtation, sir. You may practice with me for I am quite harmless."

With a roll of his eyes, Tony mocks with a deadpan, "I'll believe that when you lose your tongue and can't communicate."

As Tony soon finds out, Larien was not above committing theatrics with his words. The old elf place a hand over his heart as if wounded before vacating his seat altogether to brandish a nice little attention getting bow, "I will gladly give up my livelihood for a smidgeon of your affections. However since I am no match for Prince Thor, I shall accept any platonic platitudes you may have for me, my Lord."

Awkward silence ensues.

Oh, crap.

Knowing that all eyes at his table (and perhaps the entire dining hall maybe) were on them, Tony blinks a few times to think up something witty to say. In all honesty, everything came up blank until a snort of laughter bubbles up and before he knows it, a full onset chortle takes over him. Whether it was the politically correct thing to do, the hall suddenly fills with laughter as everyone follows suit.

One look at the Ambassador's overacted affront has Tony feeling all kinds of relief. By the time the laughter dies down and the usual chattering noise resumes, Larien sits back down and flashes a broad smile for Tony's benefit.

"Well met, my Lord."

* * *

Hours later, Tony couldn't imagine a more entertaining night since he landed on Alfheim. After the Ambassador's little outburst, the rest of the elves at his table took jibes at Larien and somehow turn to discussions on culture, language, food, and fashion of all things. Tony loved it. It gave him hope to be able to explore other topics once he's more familiar with Alfheim and the other realms.

By the time both Royal siblings had left the dining hall, Tony felt a strange sense of loss for the night to come to a close. He said goodnight to the few remaining elves on his table and caught sight of Larien approaching from his peripheral, probably returning to say goodbye. Tony pivots around and meet the old elf half way.

"Do you really have to leave so soon? We barely touched on all the subjects I wanted to talk about."

"You flatter me, my Lord," began Larien with such sincerity that soon turn false, "I thought you would be delighted to be rid of me especially after you gave me the cut direct in front of all my kinfolks."

It wasn't wholly unexpected, by now Tony was use to the old elf's quirks.

"I'm serious. What's the rush anyways?"

"Rejoice, my Lord," the Ambassador nodded in acquiescence and obliges Tony in cutting the bullshit, "I am to depart on your behalf amongst other duties. It would seem Queen Frigga has taken the task upon herself to champion your cause. She has spoken with the All-Father directly and enlisted King Frey in sponsoring your old pack mates to attend the ceremony. Her plea was most impressive and has succeeded in granting you the choice of three pack mates. Choose wisely, your Highness, in light of what you now know."

Speechless, Tony could scarcely form words for the whole of a minute. His mouth gapes open and probably made a good imitation of a fish out of water before he finds himself instead of being excited, exasperation was the forefront of all his emotions, "Y— y— you waited until now to tell me? I could have been packing to go back with you."

Larien was already shaking his head in negation before Tony could further his complaint. His demeanor now reflects more of the title of wise Ambassador than the bantering mentor he's been so familiar with.

"You are mistaken, my Lord. The stipulation from the Proclamation still stands. You are to remain here. As for the lateness of the hour, that is out of my control. The Queen, you see, had only receive the permission herself via messenger a moment ago. She intercepted me just now and gave me leave to tell you. Tis not our intention to delay your gratification."

"Oh." And now Tony feels like an entitled ass. Dipping his head to hide his embarrassment, Tony shuffles his feet before he scrounges up what's left of his good manners and apologize, "I'm sorry. I am happy. More than I can express. I miss all of them and the thought… that I could go back…"

Thankfully, the silence that stretch between them isn't as awkward as earlier in the evening. After a moment, Tony finds his courage again, "Can you give my Uncle Steve a message?"

"It will be my pleasure, your Highness."

"First thing, tell him that I trust his judgment, but he has to be one of them and, um—" Tony pauses briefly until all the previous gloom left him for good and his cheeky self finally exerts its ugly head, "that way he can be blame for favoring one pack mate over the other. Second thing is, um, can he bring me a copy of a dictionary and a cookbook to Alfheim? Would it go against some sort of 'Prime Directive' or something? Or would it be consider smuggling cultural goods through custom?"

"Knowledge has always been welcome on Alfheim."

Well then, Tony didn't just try his luck, he shot for the moon.

"In that case, would my Iron Man suit qualify as a learning tool? There's an artificial intelligence called J.A.R.V.I.S. built in."

The twinkle was back in Larien's eyes as he shook his head in negation, "Now you are pushing it, my Lord. You will come to learn in time. Until then, such exchanges must be embrace gradually."

"I guess," Tony was not the least repentant and flashes a toothy smile instead, "Wait, will you be escorting them back with you?"

"Aye, in a few days if all goes accordingly."

In most things, one can say Tony catches on pretty quick. However, one can't blame the genius when the truth of the matter finally sinks in: Christmas was definitely coming early on Alfheim.

"Awesome!"

* * *

Early next morning, Tony waits anxiously for what he now brand (to Tanna's dismay) his 'dirty dozen' to assemble. Everything was all set. The makeshift chalkboard on the inside of the barn door has completely dried and is ready for use. Tanna has positioned some benches before it for seating arrangements and all his drawings and blueprints were accounted for the presentation.

It felt like forever before everyone began to trickle in. Well everyone that Tony expected except for Pip and Kip. Their predecessors strode into his territory chatting with a few of the elves and sat down as if they have all rights to be there. He knows plenty of people like them who don't pull their weight but expects to reap the benefits afterward.

Nonchalantly folding his hands behind his back, Tony signals with a curl of his index finger for Tanna to come over. When she didn't show up, he did it again. Still nothing. Either she didn't see his gesture or she doesn't understand his meaning. Losing his impatience entirely, he foregoes all subtlety, does a complete turnabout, and stalks right up to her. His expression must have been something fierce since Tanna actually takes a few steps back in alarm. What Tony wants, Tony gets and right now he has no time for riffraff he told himself.

Not caring if he sounded like a brat, Tony whispers in a rush, "I don't remember inviting them to the party. What gives?"

Tanna takes a moment to scan the crowd and realization dawns on her face before she ventures a guess, "They must have spoken to one of your dirty dozen and are…curious, perhaps?"

Tony is quick to mutter in return, "If they are—" and raised two hands up for air quotes, "just curious," before crossing his arms over his chest and grouses, "then it means I'm short two helpers."

He could tell that Tanna was having an obvious crisis since she's doing that wobbly lip thing that looks like a smile but is trying to be serious. So he purposely intensifies his glare and she quickly picks, unfortunately it was tinge with humor, "What would you have me do, my Lord?"

"Tell them to piss off."

Tanna blinks twice then deadpans, "I beg your pardon?"

"You know, get their hoity-toity arses off my bench and bring back the teacup elves."

He receives two more blinks before his assistant (and yes, he's referring Tanna to that from now on) sniffs and deals with his demand in her oh so efficient way, "As you wish, sir."

True to her word, while Tony walks back to address his dirty dozen minus two, Tanna flags down a passing servant to whisper some instructions before she discretely signals the twins to have a private word with them. The pair seem reluctant to go, but thankfully doesn't raise a stink as they slip away. The trio walks back towards the open arch leading down to the stables but still within sight. Making a point to ignore the brewing hostility on their pimpled faces, Tont begins by welcoming the group and waste no time to elaborate on the type of projects he had in mind.

By the time Pip and Kip joins the group Tony has either impress the whole lot of them or was speaking in a foreign tongue. There was nothing but blank stares. Obviously this AllSpeak application needs an update. His eyes automatically went in search of his handy translator slash assistant and discovers not only has the twin not left, they had lingered and listen in on his little keynote. And judging by the asshole grins on their faces, gladly pissing on his parade. While standing a bit way off from the nasty duo, Tanna shrugs in apology.

Mentally flipping the birdie to the peanut gallery, Tony steels his spine and flashes the smug grin he reserves for the public and resolves to treat this small group like he's hosting the annual Stark Expo. It's bedazzle time.

Taking one of his more simplistic but fun designs in hand, Tony rolls it out with a flourish and tacks the blueprint onto the barn door.

"I call it a skateboard."

Nothing like a pair of wheels to get the crowd up and oohing.


	15. Journey Into Mystery

As expected, there were more than a few puzzled looks as the group cluster around the blueprint drawing, but hecklers it would seem are universal no matter what realm Tony's in.

"Surely, you jest? Tis nothing but a wood plank with wheels."

It doesn't take a genius to know where that comment came from. It was one thing to stay and not pay for the show, it was quite another to undermine the event altogether. Tony's new resolve from two days ago threw no objections when he chose not to mince words either, "Would those who's allergic to creativity please leave? I don't want you to strain anything important."

One thing Tony has learned and enjoyed about Alfheim is that the elves he'd encountered so far gets with the program fast. There were a few giggles (politely of course) when as a whole the group turn their gaze at the duo Tony was clearly referring to. Instead of driving the twin away though, they visibly bristles at the gibe and bulldoze their way right through the dirty dozen to Tony's drawing, gesture at it to return tit for tat.

"If you would pardon Rhys and my own lack of imagination, your Highness. Such a design would undoubtedly be of little use; tis too small to load and not wide nor deep enough to cart with. What could one possible use such a simple apparatus for?"

Yeah, no disrespect there. As much as Tony relish the thought of having Tanna send for armed guards to boot them offstage, he was more curious to see what the groups' reaction to their comments were. The ones that were nodding in agreement he has no use for them. Rather, to Tony's delight, it was the same handful of elves that he'd spoken to last night that has his attention.

Needless to say, in spite of the twins' intention they just unwittingly help Tony out. Not that he would be thanking them, more like knocking them down a peg or three for challenging him outright.

With an air of a practice showman, Tony slow claps before enunciating dryly, "Thank you for that wonderfully simplistic assessment. Now, if you would look at the drawings beneath the 'wood plank' if you please? Can any elf tell me what they see?"

That taunt manage to get the larger twin to puff up in embarrassment, so the scrawnier version tags in to the verbal match, "Nothing but a pair of axles attached to two small wheels."

As far as comebacks go, that was weak. Tony did roll his eyes then, "Thank you, Mister Obvious. Anyone else?"

He was greeted by utter silence. That was a miscalculation on his part. Tony didn't mean to scare them off with his own remarks. Thankfully the session isn't dead in the waters when a discordant voice pipes up from young Kip no less, albeit in the form of a question, "it can pivot, sir?"

Excited by the prospect of actually getting somewhere with this group, Tony broke out into a wide smile and exclaims, "Yes! That's five points for Gryffindor."

Promptly ignoring the elves immediate confusion over that non sequitur, Tony looks over his shoulder to Tanna (who has taken her usual position behind him) and calls out offhandedly, "Keep score won't you? Thanks."

Then brought his attention back to the young elf, "Now Kip, what cause you to make that observation if you don't mind sharing with the rest of the class?"

The boy seem flustered by all the attention he was getting and hesitantly stumbles along while pointing at the poster for reference, "The drawing… erm, this small joint here… this locks the front axle to that piece there… beneath the plank?"

Kip pause and eyes Tony nervously as if he's waiting for confirmation. So he nods for the boy to continue. With the boost of confidence, the young elf even gestures what the axle would do, "depending on how tight the joint is attach, it will turn left or right, my Lord."

"Very good, Kip! That's another five points," Tony enthuses and beams at the boy even as Pip gave her brother a proud smile for receiving such praise. Not wanting to chance any derogatory comments to the boy's small victory, Tony hastily prod things along.

"If you look here, this front part of the skateboard is called the nose and this back portion is called the tail. It's the nose section that the truck, this piece here, allows the axle to move on the two bushings there and that pivot point. The key to how wide an angle you want the turn depends on how much you tighten the kingpin nut here. So, any elf wants to make an educated guess as to the skateboard's use?"

Whether the group is bolster by the success of a small boy or just humoring the Midgardian Prince, one of the elves he'd spoken to last night finally joins in on the discussion. Tony recognizes him immediately as the meticulous elf with the side braid and a wide knowledge of textiles.

"Tis a wild guess, your Highness," he said before looking at his friend with the darker coloring for confirmation. Tony remembers him as well. These two were never far from each other. The dark one has a penchant for sweets and savory foods like Tony and was also in trades. After that brief exchange between what he dubbed as Ebony and Ivory, the fairer of the two continues, "Is it some type of propelled transport?"

With much relief, Tony pumps his hand in the air and points at the pair with excitement, "Yes! Ten points for Hufflepuff."

"Ah, I see!"

With a sigh, Tony is on his way to forming an aversion to the twins' voices as he differentiate between the two.

That was Lars, the leader of the two who likes to start the sentence, "If one were to tie a rope around the front axle, one can pull a child—"

"Or a small animal. Aye. We stand corrected, my Lord. Tis not useless at all," And that was Rhys, the smaller, scrawnier brother equally pock-faced who follows.

Wonders never cease. It has been a long time since one of Tony's inventions (even though this was not his own) was laughed at. From experience though, hecklers don't stop heckling until their balls are handed to them. And Tony is very tempted to do literally that. It took a recital of pi to the tenth decimal place for him to cool his temper somewhat.

Though he needn't bother. A cool and detach voice rose crisp and clear from beyond the crowd to rejoinder, "Tis a self-propelled apparatus. Judging by the purposeful curved design of the wood plank and the hints given, one needs only to stand on this skateboard to manipulate its movements. Obviously, the maneuverability and speed depends on the skill of the rider."

With all attention diverted from Tony's little project, his dirty dozen began whispering excitedly amongst themselves as they part like the Red Sea for the newcomer.

Tony has never seen her before. She was shorter than most elves, though long and lean, much darker too, with midnight hair tied in a high ponytail and muted blue skin that makes her jade eyes seems brighter against those classical cheekbones and thin press lips. She was dressed in the same regalia as the castle guards, yet her ensemble resembles more of Lady Sif's chest plate and pauldron combo. Beyond that, the changes was vastly different. Her light armor consists more of leather than metal, although the silver looks warn and the shade of forest green pants and muslin tunic was darker than the ones he'd seen the other guards wore. Even the short rapier-like scimitar strapped to her right hip pose a difference in her rank.

Her steps towards Tony were unhurried and has a distinct prowl to it. He might have made a mental gulp as she nears. At a respectful distance of a yard, she stops then place a vambrace covered arm over her chest and bows swiftly.

"Greetings Prince Anthony Stark of Midgard. I am Captain T'Pol of the Northern Rangers. My King has received word from Mortan the foreman of the Royal Forge that your commission is complete and is ready for inspection. His Majesty has granted his permission to depart with a royal escort upon your order. My pack mates and I are at your disposal."

Yes! Tony has been anxiously waiting to hear from Mortan ever since the two weeks deadline had come and gone. The downside is, Thor and his pack had kept him so busy that he has yet to experiment on the materials the old cat elf gave him. So how can he face his mentor without doing his homework first?

Reluctant to wait yet apprehensive to go, he was tongue-tied to make a decision. As far as distraction goes, the odd silence that ensue has his eyes scanning the crowd before he notice with some alarm, his group was giving the Ranger a very wide berth. Her stance remain relaxed however, though her right hand rests on the pommel of her sword as she kept her gaze steady on Tony, awaiting his orders.

What was it about this particular elf? She didn't give him the same bad vibes as Lars and Rhys did, yet the whole group especially the children seem to be wary. Or was it racial prejudice? Tony couldn't fathom it when cat elves is an actual thing.

"My Lord, perhaps we should wait until Prince Thor's return? He may wish to join you on your sojourn."

That it was Tanna of all the elves to raise an objection cause Tony to go from feeling annoyed to indignant. Even Ebony and Ivory was nodding in agreement with her advice to him. And he was equally flummox when the twins spoke up in actual defense, albeit in a condescending way.

"Come now, Tanna. You should not encourage the young Prince to follow your example and rarely leave the castle. I am sure the Ranger will do an adequate job. Rhys and I have traveled the roads to Ports Mouth thousands of times, tis safe."

Though the Ranger had been stone face at that personal jab, she actually raise a brow at the word 'safe' before going back to her stone face impression. Tony didn't want to admit it at first but his suspicions became more concrete the more he observed the crowds enjoyment of the twins' remark.

Yup, definitely a steaming pile of racial crap.

Deciding to not even poke that with a ten foot pole, Tony went with his gut and projects his voice firmly, "Give me a moment to change and grab a few things, Captain. I will meet you at the stables within an hour."

* * *

Despite being calm and collected as she helps him carry all the rolls of drawing on their quiet walk back to Tony's quarters, Tanna is anything but after she place them down on the table and quite vocally make another attempt to dissuade him.

"Prince Anthony, I beg you to reconsider. Captain T'Pol and her pack mates are hired mercenaries. Their loyalty has yet to be tested."

Oh ho. Tony knows when an elephant is being ignored in the room. That was not even a valid argument in his book.

"I understand your concerns, Tanna. But look at it this way, King Frey himself recommended them. Wouldn't he be the best judge of their loyalty?"

Instead of capitulating, Tanna seems more agitated as she began pacing the floors and wringing her fingers. Eventually she mutters something under her breath, "Tis what I am afraid of."

Tony was definitely missing something here. He doesn't have time for this.

"Excuse me?"

Inhaling a sharp gasp, Tanna nearly stumbles on her feet when she realizes what she had said. She turns sharply to face Tony, fear clearly in her eyes and prostrates on the floor.

Her voice was ripe with tension as she begs hastily, "Forgive me, your Highness. I had not meant to question the King."

Tony is having none of that as he crouch down awkwardly to quickly console her, "Hey now. Don't even go there. No kneeling, ever! You hear me?"

She seem hesitant to move still, so Tony sat down instead and try coaxing some more, "Penny for your thoughts?"

This time Tanna raises her upper body to give him a puzzle look.

With a smile, Tony falls back into their usual exchange, "It means that I can't read your thoughts, so do you mind sharing them? I promise I won't judge."

"Oh," whisper Tanna before taking a deep breath and began, albeit haltingly at first, "I would have to start… at the beginning… I think. 'Twas over 5000 years ago when King Borr fought the Dokkalfar in Svartalheim and won. However, 'twas a hollow victory for the dark elves themselves were the ones to annihilate their own kinfolks to the point of near extinction. The ones who managed to escape are few and far in-between. They scattered across the eight realms, living in the cover of darkness. Though they were granted asylum by King Borr soon after the war, many were persecuted still for inane reasons. They adapted to the other realms eventually. Most kept to themselves, living in the most inhospitable and isolated of places, wherein some became hired mercenaries known for their ruthlessness… Tis this reason I fear for you, my Lord. King Frey may be using this opportunity to test their loyalty. I cannot vouch for your safety."

Wow. She said quite a mouthful. It was a lot to take in considering all the social commentary he had to put aside. There was so many things wrong with that story.

First things first, Tony's got a plan.

"It'll be fine. I'm a big boy and can handle myself," he smirks.

"But—"

"However," Tony cuts in before she worried herself to death, "To be on the safe side, I'm going to gear up while you go fetch your own merry band of escorts, 'kay? Then we'll be there and back before lunchtime."

That should have alleviated the frown on Tanna's face but it seem to deepen it instead. Thankfully he didn't have to cajole it out of her this time.

"Very well, but you are mistaken, my Lord. Both your journey with Prince Thor were on Asgardian creatures that were bred for speedy travel. Only the royal family members are known to handle such creatures. The journey on steeds from Alfheim will not be as swift. It will take most of the day to complete the task."

"Huh."

Well that explains it. Not. Talk about special privileges. Thor made it seem so safe and effortless to travel anywhere. It was utter bullshit.

"Shall I send word to the Captain to postpone our outing?"

Damn. She looks hopeful, yet Tony has made up his mind.

"Nah. As Sun-Tzu once said, 'know thy enemy, know thyself.' I rather give people the benefit of the doubt but that doesn't mean I don't have a plan B just in case the shit hits the fan."

And now she looks disturbed.

"The image you painted tis rather disgusting, sir."

"Yeah, so is betrayal."


	16. WTF, Part I

It was weird being back in uniform.

The smell and feel of the fabrics and Kevlar felt foreign, itchy and stiff even. At least the image staring right back at him from the vanity looks somewhat familiar. Though his hair is a half-inch longer and his complexion seems to have improved. Overall, he looks hale and hearty.

Alfheim, a magical place that does wonders for one's health. Not bad for a vacation spot tagline. Maybe Tony should make a deal with King Frey on monopolizing the tourism business from Earth once the news about aliens got out that is. Stark Industries could branch out as Stark Inter-Galactic.

Now there's a thought once he can solve the space travel dilemma. It would only be a matter of when.

With all plans aside though, funny how much he's adapted to Alfheim in a little over two weeks. In the beginning, the full immersion felt like he's cosplaying a character from some RPG. The sight, scent and feel was all too surreal. It was overwhelming at first, but nothing Tony hadn't psyched himself into.

The elves as a whole, has grown on him with their work ethics and wry sense of humor. The majority of them he's met and spoken to, Tony liked. It would be a shame to think that his stay here would only be temporary. After marrying Thor, his new home would be in Asgard. A place he's already forming a strong dislike due to the small sample of the attitude and behavior exhibited by Thor and his pack mates. It didn't bode well for his future. The only silver lining is the hope that he may be wrong since Frigga and Loki call it their home too.

With a wistful sigh, Tony shook his head of such somber thoughts. He's a futurist after all.

While in the process of triple checking all his gear and hidden items, a knock came at the door. It was time to go. Whether it was going to be a trap or not, Tony will have to wait and see. He wouldn't be much value if there weren't at least one attempt on his life. Kind of hard to miss the large target on his back in being the fiancé of the Crown Prince after all. So it's just another repeat chapter from the story of his life.

Upon exiting his room, Tony had not expected to find Tanna dress in anything else except her preferred whitish dress robes. It was silly of him of course, but seeing her decked out in tan leather and cream silk makes an interesting sight. She looks even taller with linen pants and thigh high riding boots. Thinner too, with a fitted thick leather cuirass wrapped around her entire torso. And instead of the one-piece vambraces like the one he's familiar with, hers were made up of large strips of thick leather braided crisscross around her palm, up her forearm and tied just below the elbow. As for her main choice of weapon (aside from whatever was inside her matching satchel): it was too long to be a dagger, too short to be a broad sword and too thin to be a dirk, more like an Italian stiletto. Whatever it was, the craftsmanship was exquisite and beautifully carved with decorations of Elvin script on the guard and ornate scabbard. How Tony ever mistaken her to be a mated elf that was beyond him. Tanna could be a fresh face Legolas barely stepping into adulthood.

After blowing a wolf whistle, Tony couldn't help but comment, "You clean up nice, Tanna. Going somewhere special?"

The rhetorical question was completely lost to her when she answers him quite literally, "Aye, with you to Onollo."

Honestly, he should have expected that Tony thought. Score one for Tanna. After gesturing for them to get a move on, he wastes no time to begin round two of teasing, to pass the time of course.

"I'm sure you've noticed my chosen attire. I'm surprise you haven't scold me to dress appropriately by now, before decking me out with everything including the kitchen sink that is."

"By kitchen sink, do you mean the wash basin? If you have fought with one before, we can certainly ask Cook to borrow it if you like?"

Oh ho!

"Ha. Ha. Very funny."

"I have not spoken in jest, sir."

Tony pause a moment in his steps at her deadpan delivery before he saw that wobbly lip thing she did, definitely her only tell so far. That makes three strikes and he's out.

"Two zingers in a row, Tanna. You're getting better at this."

"I am learning, my Lord," she replies with amusement tingeing her voice before she continues, "However to answer your earlier question, I believe your S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform is more than adequate, sir. Likewise—"

They both gave an absent nod to a passing servant who curtsied before he waves a hand for Tanna to continue.

"Likewise, you are never without the amulets on your wrists. I am secure in the knowledge that you are skilled in your own rights and possess many hidden talents, my Lord."

Huh. He was sidetrack momentarily by the amulet comment. Tony suppose the bluish-white glow from the retractable repulsor gauntlet can be called that since it is a repository for energy of sorts. But then her comment about hidden talents did make him wonder.

Tony narrows his eyes and question a bit cautiously, "Been snooping around have you?"

On the contrary, Tanna did not look guilty or offended. In fact, she was all business as usual when she glances at him before stating, "Not when things are put in their proper place. You easily forget, sir. I clean and tidy after you."

Quite put out by her side jab about his allergy to picking up after himself (something that has Steve, Pepper, and J.A.R.V.I.S. uniting against him frequently), Tony replies in his usual juvenile manner, "I suppose you found my Alpha-size dildo then?"

Given the inappropriateness of the subject matter brought out in the public for anyone passing by to hear, to her credit, Tanna was only a little flustered when she chastise him with no small amount of annoyance, "My Lord, you have no such thing!"

This only encourage him to be more outrageous however, "Oh ho! You haven't found it yet have you? Why you naughty girl."

Seeing as how her beet red face was about to explode, Tony quickly stop his own derailment and went back on track with a laugh, "Okay, okay! I'm only joking. Sheesh! So, um… who did you brought to the party?"

Tony pointedly ignores the roll of her eyes as she took several large breaths to probably cool her rising blood pressure. It was only when her color has return to normal that she could speak with a semblance of normalcy, "After I have confirmed the assignment with the King's steward, I requested and was granted two extra guards. In addition, the good news is that Huilomë, Valto, and two of their personal guards will also join us. They are familiar with escorting trades across the land due to their family business. The bad news is that the twins and two of their personal guards will join us as well. Interestingly, both groups has expressed the need to prove the roads are safe to travel by a foreign dignitary."

Although Tony understood plainly that there is a safety in numbers, it seem to be a bit of an overkill to add ten extra people when it was only Thor previously. So he said as much, "You know, there is like, twelve of us and however more of Captain T'Pol and her pack mates. That's a bit excessive for an entourage even for me. Let's kick the twins off the bench and keep the starter players. By the way, who's Who-lome and Balto? Their name doesn't ring any bells, have I met them before?"

With a huff of exasperation, Tanna hasten her words for they were passing the quad and will be at their appointed destination soon, "We cannot even if you wish to. But aye, Huilomë and Valto are part of your dirty dozen. You have conversed with them about textiles last evening? Team Hufflepuff with the ten points?"

"Oh!" It was that last part which jogs Tony's memory, "You mean Ebony and Ivory?"

Surprised by the description, Tanna absently nods in agreement, "Aye, your pet name does suit them, my Lord. Their size and coloring do complement each other and has cause many of the court ladies to sigh upon seeing them together. They are betroth to one another despite not being of age yet. There is much hope that Valto would be revealed as an Omega."

It was Tony's turn to be surprised, "So arrange marriages is common then?"

"Aye, alliance between noblemen and tradesmen are quite the norm to secure the family legacy."

Despite being politically correct way on the side of democracy, even though his own situation speaks differently, Tony finds this whole vein of topic to be disgustingly fascinating, "Wait, what happens when Valto isn't an Omega?"

"The agreement between families will be annulled and Valto's family will return the bride price."

"Well that sucks."

"Indeed, sir."

They were only a threshold away from the stables and Tony could already see some of the group mounted on horses already. As much as he dislikes the fact that he will be soon on one as well, it wasn't what cause him to delay them both. He really wanted to know the answers to the next series of questions, "What about you Tanna? Do you have someone waiting for you?"

He could see her confusion clearly, "Nay, my Lord?"

"How come?"

Probably having realize that Tony won't budge until he got his answer, Tanna spoke as tersely as possible without sounding rude, "I have been chosen to study under Astrid the Wise and will be expected to take the vow of chastity after my rite of passage."

"You shitting me!"

"I beg your pardon?" Tanna would probably sound more affronted if she isn't so distracted by what is happening on the other side of the wall, "We must go, your Highness. The longer we delay, the more likely nightfall will hit before we return to the castle."

As much as Tony wants to argue because he really wants to know Tanna's story now, it will have to wait until they get back. This whole emissary of Earth ordeal is beginning to feel more and more like he's living out a sci-fi fantasy novel. Heck, the W.S.C. covering up the whole parasitic alien invasion should be called a sci-fi political thriller all on its own.

* * *

It was an hour into their trip and Tony already noticed several things odd about their little group.

First of all, Captain T'Pol had spoken not a single word since they began. Not a peep complaining about the additional elves. Not about Tony's awkward mounting of his horse. Not when the twins were snickering at Tony for using a mounting block. Not even when the duo had taken the lead and the Captain had fallen back to the tail end of the party.

Secondly, speaking of horses. Of all the mounts in the King's stable, Captain T'Pol was riding on Ofrid, the warhorse that Thor had tried to prepare for Tony over two weeks ago. Maybe it's different on Alfheim, but on Earth, most snobby equestrians he's met were more than possessive when they even talk about their horseflesh. Or maybe he was being paranoid and Ofrid was just another spare horse otherwise the others would have commented by now.

The third thing, which should have been the second thing but Tony got sidetrack, was that the Captain only had another pack mate with her. That particular dark elf is as grungy and feral as he ever saw one and look as uncomfortable on a horse as Tony was. Perhaps even more so, since the other was crouching over his saddle more than sitting. The dirt-covered man-boy was dressed in only a loose black tunic, capri leggings, and no shoes! That pack mate of hers hadn't spoken a single word either, but communicated by gestures to the Captain only. Come to think of it, what the hell? Tony was a little afraid, okay maybe a lot, of that one. If this was the only protection that Tony had to initially work with, oh thank Maxwell that Tanna had the foresight to over prepare. The trip would have been more tense and eventful, but fuck who was he kidding: no one wants to be alone in a forest with Captain Silent and her freaky minion.

And the fourth thing, which should have been the first thing really, considering how Tony is actually recounting all the weird stuff he's noticed instead of focusing on the possible trap. It was because of this lingering possibility that Tony is abso-fucking-lutely bored out of his wits.

There was only so many trees, shrubberies and babbling brooks he can stand. After experiencing the rapid blur of Thor's travel, he very much prefers that now over this repeated scenery especially when the company he's keeping was worse than Thor. The twins and their annoying voices along with their guards were pacing a bit up ahead, follow by Ebony and Ivory who only had eyes for each other and conversing in hush tones as their own guards flank their side. While Tanna kept pace with him, she was too busy watching her surroundings and looking back every so often as the extra guards she requested trailed behind them.

Not that all this complaining was Tony simply inviting trouble, notice the monologue kept internal. He knew better. So the inventor did the only thing he could think of that may or may not have broken one of the stipulations from the Proclamation to pass the time: he put on his much-more-sophisticated-than-it-looks technology ridden sunglasses which he wasn't suppose to have but smuggled it he did.

And not a moment too soon, when the radar blip red on his H.U.D. interface. Without hesitation, Tony quickly grabs Tanna by the front of her satchel strap and pulls her down with him. The arrow landed somewhere beside him with a thwack and warm blood sprayed across his neck. Tony cringe as he slid down and use his mount to block his body.

It was another moment, before his H.U.D. registered a 360-degree view of two-dozen blips with four Hulk-size ones when all hell broke loose.


	17. WTF, Part II

The problem in having a Plan B orchestrated by one Tony Stark, despite all the best field instructors S.H.I.E.L.D. can provide is that no matter the scenario, the billionaire's preferred plan is to always 'attack'. His psych evaluation said as much. Plan A is simply have his C.O., aka Uncle Steve, direct him where to aim. Certainly, Tony Stark's alter ego in Iron Man can be an asset in any theater of war. The reverse is also true, Iron Man's id in Tony Stark can be a liability.

So as much as the S.H.I.E.L.D. graduate can surmise who and where his enemy was and how many ways a trap can be sprung, the statistical outcome of an ambush in the middle of a forest was three to one ratio. It was guerilla tactic 101 with the highest probability of success. Therefore, his countermeasure of plan B was to get behind a barricade and pick them off until he was out of ammo. Repulsors against bows and arrows? It would be almost too easy.

Except for the not so tiny fact that the enemy has not one but four Hulk-size combatants out there. What. The. Actual. Fuck!? Repulsors against Hulk-smash? Fucking run.

Although—

Mean and Green is one of a kind. So maybe only Hulk-size but no Hulk-smash? Revision amended. Time for Plan C.

His H.U.D. shows the twenty or so blips closing in from the perimeter with some elves already engage with infighting and currently kept the enemy busy from turning him into a human pincushion. The four, bigger and apparently slower blips are taking their sweet time. Giving him a minute or two at best to see what the fuck he's dealing with.

Anticipating the coming battle, his pulse beat ratcheted up a notch as he tears off the glasses, secures it away before both gauntlets activates in seconds. Tony flexes his fingers and welcomes the familiar clinking of metal before he pulls out the hidden cables from the sleeves of his jacket and connects each wire linking directly to the arc reactor on his chest. Without it, each beam would only stun a person; with it though, a clear shot could do more than char flesh. Tony isn't taking any chances.

"Tanna? Sunshine? Tell me you're okay?" He said without bothering to look up while he checks out the view from the front of his mount. It looks like the twins, Ebony and Ivory, along with their guards aren't doing too bad fending off some cloaked humanoids and what looks like extra rejects from a Mad Max movie. Hopefully those oddly placed horns and bone fragments are not really part of their bodies. Otherwise, Tony will have to make a point not to look too closely when he blow their shit up.

"Tis only a scratch," she said. Though her tone sounds less certain than her words. Her horse whickers restlessly as if in agreement with Tony's assessment. He tears his eyes away from the battle to see for himself.

"That is a gash and you are not allow to quote Monty Python at a time like this," declares Tony as soon as he saw the still dripping wound on her deltoid. Her face was a study of pained concentration even as her once pristine tunic continues to stain crimson.

Then to make matters worse, the ground shook and a large tree topples over. A loud thump follow by a trailing scream as Tony witness one of the guards Tanna solicited went flailing over their heads and lands with an oomph against something solid. Tony's horse shot off from fright.

"Oh shit!"

With sword drawn, Tanna has reined in her horse to face the oncoming threat, thereby opening up Tony's remaining barrier. So much for the barricade idea he thought when his astounded eyes went up and up as he tries to take in one of the not-Hulk for the first time.

The thing was huge. And it did look like the Thing from F4, except instead of one malleable body of mutated rock, this thing was comprise of disproportionate loose rocks and black pebbles for eyes. It was better than any fantasy movie special effects.

"Pretty things. Uroc like."

It even has a name, though how unoriginal was that? If Tony had to imagine what talking rocks would have sound like; that would have come pretty close. All rough and grinding, with lots of clacking noises for each fricative sound. It was awesome and totally unrelated to anything helpful in defeating the damn thing as it advances. Tanna reins her horse back to maintain distance. Tony couldn't blame her, but there was only so much room to maneuver as the sound of battle rage on from both sides.

"Run! You lack wit!"

Tony heard the command before the Captain's feral pack mate quite literally rock climbs up the creature's back and began tearing into it, chucking stone and boulders at the cloak assailants fighting his Alpha.

And what a sight she was. His attention captured by the surprisingly graceful, yet deadly way their suppose traitor was cutting down a path towards them while on horseback. So much for that betrayal theory, at least for now.

His relief was short lived as a blood curdling screech punch through the thundering chaos with its soundbite. Tony swerves his head to the other combatants. Right before his eyes another creature with orange crusted skin covered with some brown leather patched-up loin cloth, and half the size of Hulk on a good day rip Valto from his mount even as he kicks the horse towards Huilomë's own. The elf fell with his steed yet manage to roll out of harm's way and into a crouch before launching after his fiancé at a run. The fury on his face only matched by the deadly swing of his duel scimitar to those who dares to stand in his way.

Tony wasted no time either, a burst from each palm clears a path of green-cloaked enemies for Huilomë who only glance his way, gave a curt nod before disappearing through the foliage.

Then out of the blue, a rough grey iron grip hauls Tony back against a solid chest, squeezing the remaining air from his lungs as he's lifted several feet off the ground. The stench the creature gave off both familiar and overpowering. He felt faint from the proximity.

Ugh! He was so stupid. Standing there gawking like a newb in a mock battle. Struggling with all his might to budge the branch-size arms, Tony kicks uselessly against the unmovable force.

"Ulik will fetch a good price for that one," crows the foul smelling beast much too close to Tony's ear for his liking. He cringes upon feeling the other's putrid breath as it continues to pollute the airwaves, "You I keep, little one."

"Prince Anthony!" Screams Tanna before she spurs her horse around yet hesitates with her sword in hand. Seeing the worry in her eyes, Tony didn't think, he raises a palm over his shoulder and fires a blast where he thought the creature's head was. A roar of pain tore through the sounds of clashing metal and hoof beats, scattering even the birds from the surrounding trees. The grey skin creature drops Tony like a hot potato in favor of grabbing his face. Just as he clears the ground, Tanna darts her horse forward and stab her sword straight through the creature's abdomen before tearing it out. Another roar sends her horse to rear up in fright as she tightens her grip and prance her mount out of harm's way just as the grey Alpha launch forward.

Tony knew he recognized that grey skin alien with the sharp teeth was the same Alpha that manhandled him back at the tavern. Tony may forget names attached to them, but he has a thing about faces. Even though his memory of that night was foggy at best, he can recall that much. Had the fucker been carrying a torch for him all this time? Ew.

Crab-walking backward as fast as he could, Tony knew he couldn't get away fast enough and raises his arm to take several potshots, to buy some time. Scorched as he was, the grey Alpha kept advancing as if the blasts were pesky mosquito bites.

His racing heart was thumping loudly in his ears. Shit! Now is not the time to panic and—

Out of nowhere, Tanna cuts between them on foot. She plants her feet and stood her ground, larger than life as Tony veers up at her back, transfixed in horror. All he could see was her arms gesticulating quickly as if performing a dance, then a bright ball of light shot out from nowhere and saturates the entire vicinity blinding everything it reaches.

* * *

Disoriented for however long, Tony wakes and immediately tense when he felt the firm cage of an armored embrace. He's atop a horse, on someone's lap. Blinking as much as he could, fear takes hold as blindness clings to his sight until he heard Captain T'Pol growl out, "Be still. Tanna has bought us some time, but more will come."

They weren't on the main road, he figured that much. He can feel the occasional brush of branches catching on before snapping back as they hurdle through the forest sporadically. Her control masterful and yet chaotic even at their speed. Tony couldn't hear anything else beyond the pounding hooves and their own panting breaths. Then clarity struck his body cold.

"Wh—where's Tanna and the others?"

"Either dead or captured," she says rather bluntly.

Shocked at first by her words, anger soon overtook the fear for his companion— no, his friends. Tony clench his eyes in impotent fury before spitting out his words, "They may not be my pack mates, but unlike you, I will not abandon my friends."

Then he felt it, her hand constricting his airways just for a split second before she relents. The steel weight of her hand heavy on his throat before she removes her grip.

"Who could be dead. Have care, little Omega," she purrs, though the threat was clear, "you know nothing of my pack. Unlike your friends, Ferrin and his brood finds their own way back to me."

Confused by her words and the familiar cadence of her tone, Tony ignores the nagging feeling to catch his breath before he tries a different tactic, "They're not dead. If you will not rescue them, I will."

He really hates not being able to see, otherwise Tony would have deck her a good one, girl or not, when she has the audacity to laugh in his ear. It was all mockery yet familiar somehow.

"I suppose you are correct, given the marauders and their troll allies left most of the escorting Betas dead. Most likely the rest were taken for profit. While we only managed to kill seven of theirs and none of the trolls," accounted the Captain as if she was giving status on the weather. She then switches back to being amused as it tinge her every word, "I wonder how you would fare against these bandits on your own? Such a grand prize offering up as sweetmeat. I applaud your gallantry, little one, but such sacrifices are needless."

She has a point, but Tony wasn't raise by Steve Rogers to give up. So he took to sarcasm instead, "Little? You aren't that big yourself, sister. So what? You telling me I should head back into the lap of luxury and let them be sold into slavery?"

For a brief moment, Tony thought he saw a flash of color before his eyes watered and has to close them again.

"Such imagination you have. Nay, the nobles in your group will be ransomed while the lesser will be sold to a collector most like. If your friends turn out to be Omegas, they will fetch a good price and live in the lap of luxury as you would say."

Feeling as how their slowing down for some reason, suspicion quickly jump to the forefront of Tony's thoughts as he mulls over the jumble of clues. He tries again to open his eyes and was happy to be greeted by the sight of something, even though it was blurry at best. So he feints defeat and slumps forward on the horse's mane. Subtly, Tony drew one of the black steel throwing knives from his sleeve and jams it on the Captain's thigh before pushing off the pommel and head-butts behind him with her grunt as reward.

Tony didn't want to stick around to be cursed at or worse, killed. He quickly slid off the horse and half ran, half stumbling his way as he reactivate his gauntlets. Thank Einstein he still have those at least. He only made a few yards at best until he heard some fast approaching footsteps. Fearing for the worst, Tony shot first and ask questions later. A shrill yelp follow by a familiar whine cut through the frantic beating of his heart and the subsequent rumbling growl stops him cold.

"Fenrir, stand down."


End file.
